


Flour Girl (Bucky x reader Bakery AU)

by avengerofyourheart



Series: Flour Girl (Bucky x reader Bakery AU) [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - You've Got Mail Fusion, Avengers - Freeform, Baking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, F/M, Marvel - Freeform, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-06-11 20:26:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 38,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15323643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avengerofyourheart/pseuds/avengerofyourheart
Summary: Characters: reader, Bucky (Jimmy), Clint, Wanda.Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)Warnings: none! Mild swearing?Word Count: 1.2k





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It’s here!! I’m so excited to finally be sharing this story with you!! Ever since I mentioned this idea almost a year ago on this post, it has been nudging me to write it. Two months of work and it’s ready to go out into the world. Let’s get this started! Whoo!! :D I can’t wait to hear your thoughts! Any and all feedback is appreciated. I adore you all. <3

Five slices of strawberry, three ripe blackberries, a handful of plump blueberries, and a dusting of powdered sugar as a finishing touch. Perfect. Straightening up from your bent-over position, you surveyed your work with a smile and placed the last mini fruit tart in a box before securing the lid.

“Done,” you spoke out loud to yourself with an accomplished sigh.

Wanda, your one and only employee, was arriving just as you placed the last box in the back of your car and closed the trunk. She would mind the cash register and pastry counter while you were out on deliveries.

“Morning, Wanda,” you greeted her with a smile.

“Hey, Y/N,” she replied with a yawn.

“There’s a fresh pot of coffee. The good stuff,” you said with a wink.

“Ugh, you’re a lifesaver. I didn’t have time to stop. But guess what I saw?” she leaned in close with a narrowing of her eyes.

“What?”

“A delivery van for Barnes Bakery,” she whispered, scandalized.

Your mouth gaped open. “Here? But their delivery area is basically all of Brooklyn! I didn’t think they’d branched out across the bridge…” you trailed off. Wanda clutched your hand in comfort as she saw the look of worry on your face.

Barnes Bakery had been around forever and were known for their breads, rolls, and occasional pastries. Your small shop was doing well, but was still within the first year of opening, which was the most vulnerable time for a new business. If they were seeking new coffee shops and restaurants to supply their goods to, there was no way you could compete.

Straightening your spine, you shook off those thoughts and forced a smile on your face. “You know what? It’s fine. We have totally different products and there’s plenty of business to go around. Don’t you worry about a thing,” you said confidently with a squeeze of her hand.

Wanda eyed you for a second but then smiled as well. “Okay. You better get going.”

“Hm? Oh! Right. Gotta be on time to keep my clients happy! Oh, could you punch down the cinnamon roll dough in about 20 minutes? I shouldn’t be much longer than that but just in case,” you asked, knowing that a yeast dough like that could get out of control if you weren’t careful.

“Got it,” she agreed, setting a timer on her phone using Siri.

“I’ll be back!”

_____________________

Pushing the glass door open with your hip, you carefully carried the two large, white rectangular boxes into the last cafe on your delivery list. The Hawk’s Nest was owned by Clint Barton, who was the first of your wholesale clients and you would be forever grateful to him for taking a chance on you. The shop was small with a few tables opposite the counter, but the real draw was the high ceilings and loft upstairs filed with large bean bag chairs and cozy little corners to read or study in. Most just called it the Nest.

As you approached the counter, you noticed a very attractive man leaning against the wall with one elbow resting on the counter. His eyes found yours and as you stepped nearer, the brilliant blue shade of them captured you momentarily. He offered a smile and you returned it, suddenly self-conscious about the flour dusted on your pants and how your hair and makeup were the last of your worries this morning.

Setting the boxes safely on the counter you looked around for Clint, but he must have been in the back room at the moment. Taking a deep breath, you noticed as the man only a few feet away from you leaned forward and sniffed the air.

“Mmm. Something smells good,” he grinned.

Taking in his appearance, the stranger wore well-fitting jeans and a plain green t-shirt just snug enough to showcase his muscular physique. His dark brown hair looked effortlessly tousled and soft, your fingers itching to run through it. Below those brilliant blues eyes were plump, pink lips with straight white teeth and a chiseled jaw with just a dusting of scruff. He smirked as he noticed your gaze linger a moment too long.

Temporarily unable to speak, you lifted the lid of one of the boxes to show what was inside. Hand-rolled chocolate croissants, fresh fruit tarts, shortbread cookies, and blueberry muffins. And that was in just one of the boxes.

The man’s eyes widen as he peered inside. “Wow. That looks amazing. Did you make all of that?” he asked with an impressed tone.

Nodding, you finally found your voice. “I did. I have a shop about 5 blocks west and also sell to a few of the coffee shops like this one,” you spoke proudly.

“Really? I might have to stop by sometime,” he replied, leaning in a little closer. “What’s the name of your shop?”

“City Sweets.”

“I like it. And you sell things like this here?” he asked, pointing to the contents of the box.

“That and much more. My almond croissant and chocolate ganache tart are also to die for. If I do say so myself,” you boasted, looking away from the intensity of his gaze. When you glance back up, he was still watching you. “You should come by.”

“Well, you’ve sold me on it. I’ll definitely be dropping by,” he promised in a quiet, low voice that made your heart catch in your throat. “And…will you be there?”

Afraid that your voice might not cooperate, you just nodded.

“Okay then.”

Clearing your throat, you finally mustered a bit of courage. “Y/N. My name. I’m…Y/N,” you stammered, kicking yourself at how uncool you sounded.

He just grinned. “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m—“

“Jimmy!”

You heard the booming voice of Clint as he approached from the back, drawing both of your attentions.

“Oh, hey, Y/N! Oooh. That all looks awesome. I’ll check that out in just a minute,” he addressed you, then turning his attention to the man beside you. Jimmy, apparently. “I looked over the contract and it all looks good, man. Here you go. Say hi to your dad for me,” he said, handing over a stack of papers to Jimmy.

“I will. Thanks, Clint. Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he lastly spoke to you, giving a mock salute to you both before he did an about-face and head for the door. On the back of his t-shirt was a familiar logo with the words “Barnes Bakery” printed in bold letters.

You felt the blood drain from your face. “I…wha….he works at Barnes Bakery?” you finally spoke in a utter surprise, turning toward Clint. “What is he doing here?”

“Looks like they’re expanding outside Brooklyn so I got a few samples to try. I’m gonna start buying their bagels. Did you know they had bagels? Cause I didn’t,” Clint shrugged casually.

“No…I didn’t…and what does Jimmy do?”

“That’s the boss’s son. He just graduated college so I guess he’s back home to help his dad grow the business. Pretty cool,” Clint told you, taking a long drink of his extra large coffee mug before focusing on your box of baked goods.

He checked it all over and signed the invoice you handed him. Your interaction was just as it usually was, but somehow you felt a change in the air. Not to mention, you had humiliated yourself in front of your competition.

Damn. You had flirted with the enemy.

_____________

Part Two>> Coming Thurs, 19 July!!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky (Jimmy), Clint, Wanda.
> 
> Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)
> 
> Warnings: none! Mild swearing?
> 
> Word Count: 1.2k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aahh!!! I’m so grateful and elated that you all loved part one!! This baking fic is kind of my heart and soul and I’m so glad you’re loving it and love the idea of it. There’s so much more to come and a lot of snarky banter mixed with sweetness! I love you all. Please let me know your thoughts! I love to hear from you!! :)

The drive back to your bakery was a blur after your interactions with Clint and Jimmy. How could a regular morning take such a sharp turn for the worst? Parking in your designated spot in front of your building, you walked through the store front and offered a smile to a few customers being helped by Wanda. Setting down your coat and bag on the chair in your tiny back office where you did paperwork, you then rolled your shoulders and neck to release tension that had gathered there.

Somehow you had finished your morning baking, done your deliveries, discovered that the competition was moving into the neighborhood, and flirted badly with a cute guy who happened to work for the rival bakery. It wasn’t even 9am.

A deep breath and a few more stretches later, you decided to shake off this morning and get your hands in some some dough. That’s when you were most comfortable and in control, when you were baking. Tying an apron around your waist and washing your hands, you punched down the growing yeast dough one more time before dumping it out onto the floured wooden surface.

It all became muscle memory then, rolling out the dough and spreading your special cinnamon filling over the whole surface. Sprinkling a few chopped pecans on top, you then rolled the dough into one long log and began to cut the dough evenly before placing each roll on a cookie sheet. Your cinnamon rolls were one of our top sellers, so you made them fresh almost every day. You also received special orders where customers would asked for a dozen at a time.

You were just cleaning off your table when Wanda hollered back that she needed a few different types of cookies. Reaching into the two-door freezer, you placed the cookie dough balls on sheet pans and slid them into the oven. It was more efficient to make a large amount of dough at a time and freeze it to be baked fresh when needed.

Later you brought the cookies up front and Wanda restocked the case filled with baked goods. You checked that the self-serve coffee pots were filled and creamers were still cold. Restocking a few of the sweeteners, you then took one last look around, satisfied that everything was in its place.

“Wanda, I’ll be in the office if you need me,” you told the long-haired brunette.

“You got it, boss,” Wanda smiled.

Wanda had been with you from the very beginning. It had only been a year since you had turned in your business proposal and were approved for a loan, allowing you to open the bakery. Renting retail space in New York City was ridiculously expensive, but you did have one saving grace. Your landlord was willing to lower the rent slightly because it was also the building you lived in, up one floor. You had agreed to serve as superintendent, since he lived outside the city. It was a lot to take on with your business and also getting random calls in the middle of the night about broken thermostats and clogged toilets, but somehow you made it work.

You had just taken a seat in your office with coffee and a muffin when your phone chirped. Fishing it out of your apron, you saw a text message and swiped to open it.

 _Hey dillweed, you messed up our order again._  
_That’s the third time this month, dude._  
 _Get back here and fix it.--B._

Staring down at your phone, you blinked a few times and read the words once more. Well, clearly that message wasn’t meant for you. Normally, you’d just ignore it, but it seemed important, so drafted a message and hit send.

 _Excuse me? I think you have the_  
_wrong number. I am not a dude._  
_And what kind of insult is dillweed_  
_anyway?--FG_

Three dots appeared as the other person was typing and seconds later another message arrived.

 _Oh, I’m sorry. I must have typed_  
_the number in wrong. My mistake._  
_Sorry to bother you. Also dillweed_  
_is a perfectly acceptable insult,_  
_thank you very much.--B._

The response made you laugh. You were about to delete the messages and forget all about the exchange when you changed your mind and started typing. After this morning, you could use a little harmless entertainment.

 _FG: You typed in the number?_  
_What’re you, 90? If you know_  
_someone well enough to insult_  
_them, wouldn’t they be saved_  
_in your contacts?_

A few more seconds later, you saw their response.

 _B: Well, Ms. Judge-y Stranger,_  
_if you must know, I have a bad_  
_track record with cell phones_  
_and rarely have them for long_  
_so I memorize most numbers_  
_or keep them in a notebook._  
_Happy?_

Another snort before you responded.

 _FG: Ecstatic. You’re right, I don’t_  
_know you at all and have no right_  
_to judge. It’s impressive that you_  
_can memorize numbers. My_  
_generation has completely lost the ability._

_B: How do you know we’re not the  
same generation?_

Grinning, you shot back a quick reply.

_FG: You never refuted my claims  
that you were 90._

_B: Oh. Well, I’m not. I’m 24, for your  
information. And you?_

You hesitated then, unsure about telling a stranger anything about yourself. This was just harmless fun. After thinking a moment, you sent out a vague reply.

_FG: I’m somewhere around there._

_B: What’s your name?_

That was a hard stop right there. Nope.

 _FG: I think that’s enough chatting_  
_with a random stranger for today._  
_I’ll keep my personal info to myself,_  
_thank you._

 _B: Well, I might know more about you_  
_than you might think. I know you are_  
_not a dude and from the area code,_  
_I know you’re a New Yorker._

Huh. Well, he wasn’t wrong. Before you could reply another message appeared.

 _B: I’ve already offered more info than_  
_you have, but I’m a giver. I am, in fact,_  
_a dude and also a New Yorker. See?_  
_Not that difficult._

Another laugh escaped your lips. You then noticed the clock and felt foolish to spend so much precious time on this silly conversation, entertaining as it was.

_FG: Well, dude. I have to get back to  
work. Nice chatting with you._

_B: Oh? What do you do? Is FG your  
initials? Fiona Gale? Franny George?_

You couldn’t help yourself and sent a laughing emoji with tears.

_FG: Nice try. Later, dude._

Back at work, you couldn’t help but think about that absurd text conversation. It was probably just a one-time thing, but it definitely turned your whole day around. Pulling out the ingredients to make tart dough, you couldn’t help but hum to yourself. Thank you, dude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooh, intrigue!!! Who’s this mysterious texter?? Also, cinnamon rolls. *drools* I’d apologize about making you all hungry, but I’m kind of not sorry. :D Mondays and Thursdays might just be days we all give up on our diets. ha!! Would you have texted back? Do you think she’s smart to keep her information to herself? Never can be too careful!! I hope you’re excited for part 3 on Monday!! I’d love to hear what you think of this chapter!! I adore you all. Thank you for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky (Jimmy), Clint, Wanda.
> 
> Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)
> 
> Warnings: none! Mild swearing?
> 
> Word Count: 1.1k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys!!! I’m so happy that you’re all excited for more!! Like…more texting banter and ridiculous insults?? ;) haha. I adore you all for your support LOVE all the feedback I’m receiving! Please let me know your thoughts on part 3!! I adore you all!!<3

_Previously:_

_Back at work, you couldn’t help but think about that absurd text conversation. It was probably just a one-time thing, but it definitely turned your whole day around. Pulling out the ingredients to make tart dough, you couldn’t help but hum to yourself. Thank you, dude._

____________

Later that afternoon, you had finished most of your prep work for the day but chose to avoid the paperwork waiting in your office, so you told Wanda she could take a break. You loved the baking behind the scenes, but also enjoyed helping customers when you had the time.

Carrying a tray of almond croissants fresh from the oven, you grabbed a set of tongs and began restocking the empty space in the pastry case. They had sold out quickly today, which made you proud.

“Ooh, those look good,” you heard a male voice say.

Straightening up from your crouch position, you turned with a smile to greet him but instead met a familiar face. Unfortunately.

“Y/N, was it? This is a cute little shop,” Jimmy spoke, his eyes wandering around the bakery that was your pride and joy. The words were complimentary, but the way he said it made it sound condescending. Or maybe you were imagining things.

“What are you doing here?” you said, a little sharply.

“I recall that you said I should come visit this morning. Did I mishear you, or…” he trailed off with a raised eyebrow.

You fumbled with the tongs, embarrassed. “I…well, that was before…I didn’t know…” You took a deep breath and calmed your nerves. “Are you here to spy on me? Check out the competition?” 

Jimmy scoffed at that. “Hardly. My father has been in business for 20 years. We’re good at what we do. Most small businesses fail within the first year, especially food establishments. He’s seen many shops come and go without any worry, so, no. I don’t think there’s any need for me to spy,” he smirked, amused at your reaction.

You couldn’t help it. Anger filled you as he all but said that you were going to fail. That you weren’t even worth considering as competition. You’ve given your heart and soul, your life’s blood into this bakery. How dare he belittle you and your business? And yet, you stood frozen with tongs in hand, unable to fire back with a witty retort in the moment.

“So. Can I get one of your almond croissants and a ganache tart, please? They’ve come highly recommended.” Jimmy continued to give that smirk that you’d love to smack right off his face.

“Of course!” you heard Wanda reply from behind you, unaware she had returned. “Do you want me to take over Y/N?”

Recovering from the unfair accusations from the man before you, all you could do was hand Wanda the tongs and slink back into the kitchen without a word. The fury returned as you paced back and forth between the workbench and shelves of ingredients opposite. There wasn’t much room to pace, but after a few passes you were fuming. You heard the jangle of bell the over the door and dared to peek out of the kitchen.

“Is he gone?” you asked in a whisper.

Wanda looked at you warily. “Yeah? Why, who was that?”

“Jimmy Barnes.”

She gasped. “As in…”

“Barnes Bakery, yup. He’s the owner’s son, back from college I guess,” you uttered, leaning heavily on the counter as all the anger left you. It was too late to reply now, anyway.

“I heard about him! I guess he has a degree in business now and wants to help out his dad. Jimmy, huh? Too bad. He was cute,” Wanda said with a shrug.

You huffed out a sigh. Of course he’s cute. He probably knows he’s cute, too. The jerk. “Um…I’ll be in back. Let me know if you need anything and I’ll come help close up in a while.”

“Mmkay,” Wanda chirped as she wiped down the counter.

Back in your office, you stared at the paperwork before you, but couldn’t get your brain to focus as thoughts tumbled. He thinks I’m destined to fail? Ugh! How dare that pretty boy with a business degree tell me that my hard work will be for nothing?

A short time later, Wanda asked for more cinnamon rolls and as you set a timer on your phone for the oven, you had a thought. A little random pick-me-up couldn’t hurt.

_FG: Did dillweed ever fix the order?_

Your finger hovered over the send button as you hesitated, then pressing it before you could overthink too much. Three dots appeared. Guess he hadn’t ruined his current phone just yet.

_B: Yeah, he did. Had to chase him down along his delivery route, but I twisted his arm._

The three dots remained after the first message so you waited for him to finish typing.

_B: Not that I don’t appreciate it, but why message me now? Weren’t you all “Stranger Danger”?_

The last phrase made you smile as you let go of the events of the afternoon and chose to text this stranger once again.

_FG: I am still wary of all strangers, including you. But I had a run-in with someone just now who made me want to….Well…I probably shouldn’t say. Plausible deniability. You know. I could use a distraction._

_B: I can distract with the best of them. You can message me anytime. What did they do?_

Chewing on your lip a moment, you figured out a general way to explain your frustration without too many details. He was still a stranger, after all.

_FG: Just some uppity know-it-all who passed judgement about me and my work. Condescending ass…._

_B: What a dick. I’m sorry._

_FG: Yeah, well. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about, so his rude opinion is not at all valid._

_B: That’s right! You go, girl. Or something._

By this point you were full-on grinning down at your phone, the afternoon’s events all but forgotten. Glancing at the clock, you saw that it was near closing time. You were almost sad to say goodbye, which was weird. One more message and it was time to return to reality.

_FG: Thank you. What does B stand for, anyway? Brian? Bernard? Bozo the Clown?_

_B: *laughing emoji* I asked you first._

You chuckled at that.

_FG: Touche’. I better go. Later, dude._

_B: Bye, Franny._

Locking your phone, you straightened the last of your paperwork and headed up front to help Wanda. All the little cleaning tasks didn’t seem so bad as you blasted music and danced along. Crawling into bed that night, you set an early alarm and thought back on the crazy events of the day. It was quite the rollercoaster, but you were just grateful that it ended on a high note. Tomorrow was another day, you thought as you got comfortable on your pillow with a hint of a smile on your lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh!! So??? What did you think of Jimmy showing up at the bakery, out of the blue? He definitely has some strong opinions about the baking business! Don’t you hate it when you can’t come up with the right witty response in the moment? So frustrating!! That text conversation, though… Who’s the mysterious man? He’s definitely a lovely distraction. ;) Please let me know your thoughts on this part! I adore you guys!! <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky (Jimmy), Wanda.
> 
> Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)
> 
> Warnings: none! Mild swearing?
> 
> Word Count: 1.4k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so grateful for all of you who have shared your love for this series. I’m having so much fun hearing all your theories and offering guesses about who “B” might be. ;) I’m pretty sure we all know, but it’s rather amusing to see the two developing relationships! :D Please let me know your thoughts on this part, any comments or feedback are appreciated! I love you guys. <3

Alarms were the worst. 4:30am wasn’t even a real time in the morning, it was more like the middle of the night. Part of you knew that you were the boss and got to set your own hours, but the other part was aware that there was too much to do so you grumbled and rolled out of bed before getting ready for the day. Some mornings, the only reason you didn’t smash your alarm was because it was also your cell phone and you needed that for conducting your business and checking email. And texting.

A tease of a smile tugged at your lips as you slipped on your shoes. Pulling out your phone, you scrolled through the messages between you and the stranger, “B”. It was nothing. Pure nonsense. But somehow, even those small interactions sparked a warmth in your chest. Sadly, with your crazy work hours and superintendent duties, you didn’t have much time for a social life. Is that how you viewed this…whatever it was? A replacement relationship? God, you needed to get out more.

Shaking your head, you bounded down the outdoor stairs in the dark and unlocked the front door of the bakery before locking it again behind you. Flicking on only the kitchen lights, you turned on the oven to heat and pulled out pastries from the fridge so they could proof before baking. You turned on some music, nodding to the beat, and then grabbed a pad of paper so you could put in an ingredients order later that day.

There was a constant balance between quality and food cost when running a business. You strived to be as organic as possible and entirely non-GMO, but that came at a price. Just as you were finishing your list, the preheat indicator light switched off on the oven so you filled it with pastries before setting a timer.

Next you went out front to check yesterday’s products for freshness. You preferred to bake everything fresh, but it wasn’t practical to toss everything at the end of the night. Not to mention, it would be wasteful, so you let some items carry over to the next day. The few that didn’t quite meet your standards were added to a box under the counter and it would all be donated to a homeless shelter later that day.

The oven timer sounded then so you ventured back into the kitchen to remove those trays and replace them with another round of pastries. Roughly an hour later, everything was baked, glazed, and/or sugar-dusted, and ready to go in boxes or in the pastry case. You heard your phone chirp from the far end of the table where you’d left it, so you wiped your hands on your apron and woke up the screen to see what the alert was.

A text. From B. You smiled automatically, knowing it was bizarre to get excited about a message from a stranger. Part of you wondered why he was up was up so early, reading the clock that showed 6:30am.

_B: Coffee or tea?_

You snorted at that.

_FG: Is that even a question? Coffee, all the way._

_B: Whew! Good. I’m wary of tea-drinkers. How do you take yours?_

_FG: Cream, one sugar. Why?_

_B: None of those frothy, frappe, dessert-disguised-as-coffee drinks?_

One more message came right after.

_B: And I thought there might be ways to get to know you without divulging too much “info” that you’re so nervous to share. :)_

A grin stretched across your face. “B” wanted to get to know you, even coming up with a way so you weren’t uncomfortable. How considerate. He was right, you didn’t think twice about sharing your usual coffee preference. Leaning your elbows on the table, you pecked out a reply.

_FG: I’m not entirely opposed to the frilly drinks, but they are rare for me. What about you?_

_B: Black, three sugars._

_FG: Interesting…_

Wanda knocked on the front door then and you realized that the shop was opening soon. Setting your phone aside, you let her in and started removing the upside-down chairs from the tables. Your deliveries that day weren’t expected until 8am, so you helped Wanda stock the pastry case and brewed some fresh coffee for the early morning customers. You flipped the sign to “Open” right at 7am with a customer already waiting outside so you held the door open and greeted them. The day had officially begun.

_________________

The morning went by quickly, dropping off your deliveries and then jumping straight into the day’s baking. You had a special order for a dozen each of three types of croissants to be picked up tomorrow, so you set those aside and did a quick inventory of what needed to be made. You stayed pretty busy, but you stole small moments to check your phone and send off a short reply to your new digital pen pal.

After his coffee inquiries, it became a game of “this or that” going back and forth throughout the day. Your answers were sporadic, but he didn’t seem to mind. Mountains or beach? Milk or dark chocolate? Socks or no socks? The conversation got a little heated when he asked if you preferred The Beatles or the Rolling Stones. You were a hard-core Beatles fan and he was adamant that the Stones were better. Pff. As if Mick Jagger could compete with the Fab Four?

You had to change the subject then, to salvage whatever “friendship” you had left. He changed the game to favorites. Favorite ice cream? Favorite smell? Favorite book? The list went on and with every reply, you felt yourself getting more and more attached to this mystery man. His texts were becoming the highlights of your day.

In the late afternoon, you told Wanda that you’d be back in about an hour and she assured you she had everything under control. Walking one block to the corner and then taking a right, you soon arrived at your favorite local market. Before you left, you had sent an order online for all of your bulk items like flour, sugar, butter, eggs, all the essentials. There were some items you preferred to get locally, though, so since you needed groceries for yourself, you thought you’d do it all in one trip.

Carrying two shopping baskets, you carefully sorted your purchases between personal and business items. Keeping separate bank accounts for each made things easier, not to mention more legal. You had an accountant who helped handle your finances, thank heavens, but there was still a lot of responsibility on your part as well.

Gazing at one of your baskets, you turned down the next aisle and accidentally bumped into the man before you.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, sir, I should have…” you quickly apologized, but then your brain caught up to the familiar face with gasp. “You!”

Jimmy’s overly-confident grin made an appearance, of course. “Y/N. Fancy meeting you here,” he said jovially.

Snapping your gaping mouth shut, you came to your senses. “What are you doing here?”

Jimmy narrowed his eyes and lifted the basket in his hand for you to see. “Same thing you are? Shopping?”

“No, I mean…obviously, but why aren’t you doing that in Brooklyn?” you asked, accusingly.

He took a deep breath and let it out with a huff. “Well, I could, but I think my ice cream might melt on the subway ride back here,” he replied.

Jimmy seemed to take pleasure in your confused expression, but he continued on to explain.

“I live here. About two blocks that way,” he indicated with his thumb and a smug expression.

“Wha…why?” sputtered loudly, in shock.

He chuckled at your outburst. “I wasn’t keen on staying with my parents and my friend from college had a roommate move out. Guess it was meant to be, huh?” Jimmy shrugged cockily, still wearing that stupid grin. Reaching for something on the shelf, he leaned uncomfortably close to you as he spoke his parting words at a whisper. “See you around…neighbor,” he said with a wink.

Your heart sank. Great. Now you had to find a new market. He was ruining everything.

____________________

_Part 5 coming soon!!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise!! Guess who lives nearby?? ;) That complicates things, huh? What did you think of B’s approach of “getting to know you”? What sort of answers would you give? Personally, I’m on the side of The Beatles, so I had to write it that way. ;) How would you react to running into Jimmy? Welcome to the neighborhood, huh? I look forward to your comments!! I love you all! Thank you for your love and supports. <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky (Jimmy), Wanda.
> 
> Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)
> 
> Warnings: none! Mild swearing?
> 
> Word Count: 1.5k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh!! I can’t tell you how much I appreciate all of your love and support for this series. it means the world to me. There’s a lot more snark and sweetness coming up and I can’t wait to hear what your thoughts are!! Any and all feedback is appreciated. i adore you all. <3

It’s a rotten morning when you’re awake even before your 4:30am alarm, unclogging a toilet. Your life was so glamorous. Mrs. Carter in 3G had called multiple times in the middle of the night and you finally answered, since she clearly wasn’t giving up. By the time you got back to your apartment, it was almost 5am. You were exhausted and now running late. Wonderful. **  
**

A brief, hot shower later and you were walking through the bakery into the safe space of your kitchen. Baking always put you in a calmer state after such a frazzled morning. But first, coffee. You added fresh grounds to the reservoir and hit the button to brew before tying on your apron and washing your hands.

It was a croissant day, so you pulled your chilled dough from the fridge. Carefully, you [rolled it into a perfect rectangle and then folded it into thirds before wrapping it again](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tm7Hxb8sNtw). One more hour in the fridge and it would be ready to turn into croissants. The oven was on with the usual pastries baking when you got a text from “B”, and this time with an image attached.

Your heart leapt into your throat as you opened the attachment, excited and nervous. It was of a mug of coffee, still steaming, with the caption “ _Most important meal of the day._ ” No identifiable clues as to who your mystery texter was, and for a split second you were disappointed. Did you really want to know who it was? What happens then? Would you share who YOU were? That was too much to worry about so early in the morning.

Shaking off the thoughts, you clicked the icon for your phone’s camera and snapped a photo of your own mug of coffee with one word added. “ _Agreed.”_ Before sending it, you made sure nothing in the background would give the receiver any idea of your location. You hit send.

The oven timer went off then and you went about finishing all the pastries to sell and deliver. Wanda texted that the train was delayed and she would be a little late, so you took down the chairs and got the pastry case ready for the shop to open. Fresh coffee was brewing as Wanda walked through the door.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N!” she exclaimed immediately upon entering.

“It’s fine, seriously, I have things handled,” you assured her with a smile. “But I might have to duck back upstairs in a little while for a nap. Today started even earlier than usual,” you said with a tired sigh.

“Ooh. I’m sorry. Tenant problems?” Wanda grimaced.

You just shrugged. “Nothing I can’t handle. I’m off to deliver. If I happen to be gone when the food delivery truck arrives, will you text me? I won’t be far away.”

“Of course,” she agreed, tying on her own cute apron and pulling her hair back.

“See you in a bit!”

_________________________

Your last stop of the day at the Nest proved a little more difficult, since the most convenient parking spot was currently occupied by a Barnes Bakery delivery van. Of course it was. Walking a little further than usual, you arrived slightly out of breath with arms aching as you pushed through the glass door. You staggered the last few feet and placed the two boxes on the counter with a huff. It was then that you noticed your nemesis leaning on said counter. Again.

“Morning, Y/N. Late start today?” he taunted with a grin.

You might have replied more honestly then, but Clint had arrived so you held your tongue. “Limited parking on the street this morning,” you said with a mild glare at the curly-haired brunet. He looked well-rested and perfected styled as usual. Jerk.

Clint looked over the pastries and signed the invoice as you absently rubbed at a stain on the sleeve of your sweatshirt.

“Everything looks good,” he replied, handing you the form. “I might have to change my order for next week, though. Just a few less items. I guess the more savory items like the bagels are selling better so I have a little less room for your stuff. Not to worry, though, people still like having options,” the blond patted your hand with a grin.

Trying to return the smile, you let out a shaky breath. “Of course, yeah. Send me an email of what you’d like to change. No problem.”

“Great. I’ll see you two later,” Clint waved before walking over to help a customer.

Jimmy said nothing, but felt content to linger and sip his cup of coffee without a care in the world.

Having recovered, you whirled toward him. “Feeling proud of yourself?” you asked with a withering glare.

He just shrugged with a smirk. “Well, I’m not unhappy with this turn of events. You know how it goes…supply and demand,” he annoyingly explained before taking another sip.

“Yes, I understand that concept. It doesn’t take a business degree to grasp it,” you spat back at him. “Did you have to hog the whole street, too?”

“Looks like I have another…” he glanced at his watch, “15 minutes before the meter runs out, so yeah, I do. No more deliveries, so I might just stay a little longer.” Jimmy pushed away from the counter and settled on a nearby chair.

Fists clenched at your sides, you took a deep breath and grabbed the invoice off the counter. One last glance his way and you left without a word. What an insufferable man. Reaching your car, you got a text and saw it was from Wanda. You rushed back to the bakery just in time to see a delivery truck double parked outside.

“Sam, hi!” you jogged up to meet the man on the sidewalk.

The handsome, dark-skinned man gave you a smile as you arrived. “Hey, Y/N. Just in time, any later and the company starts to charge for late deliveries,” Sam told you regretfully. He had been your regular driver since you had opened. He was always kind to you, but the company did have regulations to uphold.

Catching your breath, you replied. “I know, I’m sorry. Rough morning. I’ll get the cellar door open.”

Rushing through the bakery and briefly speaking to Wanda, you squeezed down the narrow stairs at the back of the kitchen hidden by a door and into the small cellar. Most business, especially food establishments, had to have a storage area but limited real estate meant it had to be underground. You could barely stand up in the cellar and hauling 50 pound bags of flour up the stairs wasn’t fun, but you made the most of it.

You unlocked the padlock from inside and knocked twice before pushing the heavy metal doors open. The knocking alerted anyone nearby to get out of the way. Sam assisted laying the doors flat and then climbed down to help set up the ramp along the stairs. The best way to get everything down the stairs, or at least the non-fragile items, was by sliding them down with someone who could catch them at the bottom. It also helped you check off ingredients as they arrived and you could make sure they were put away properly.

Sam hollered that he was ready to go and you gave him a shout that you were as well. It only took about 15 minutes to unload and catch the items, but by the end your arms were aching and your back was sore from bending down in the small space.

“That’s the last of it,” Sam called down to you, but your brow furrowed at that. Something didn’t add up.

Climbing up the stairs, you accepted the order invoice Sam handed you and you looked it over. “I’m missing a bag of flour,” you told him, concerned.

“Yeah, I know. It busted open all over my truck when I tried to lift it. The loading guys must have torn it. Sorry about that. We could try to get a bag to you tomorrow, but there would be a delivery charge,” he said apologetically.

Biting your lip, you weighed the possibilities. The delivery fee was a crazy amount of money just for one bag of flour and you just didn’t have the extra money. You always tried to order a little extra just in case, but without that bag of flour, you’d just have to cross your fingers that what you had would last you until next week.

“No, that’s okay. Just credit me the bag of flour and I’ll get more next week,” you decided.

“Alright,” he said, making the adjustments to your invoice. “Sign, please.”

After waving goodbye to Sam and locking the cellar doors, you checked in on Wanda at the front.

“Hey, Y/N. Business has been steady, but nothing I can’t handle if you want to take that nap?” she offered.

Pushing away the desire to sleep, you shook your head. “No. Thanks, though. I need to work on a few savory recipes I’ve been thinking about,” you said resolutely.

“Right now?” she asked, concerned.

“Right now,” you replied, squaring your shoulders.  

It was time to fight back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, snap!! She’s ready to fight!! Ugh, Jimmy and is bagels. And a photo from “B”!! Ahh!! Turned out to just be coffee, but I’d be nervous, too! And Sam!! yayyy!!! I love him. Such a sweetheart. It also occurred to me while talking to Becca that some might not know how croissants are made! Or croissant dough, as mentioned so I've added a link to a youtube video within the story. Trust me when I say any homemade croissant you buy is worth every penny! I love you guys. Can’t wait to hear your thoughts!! Thank you for reading!! :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky (Jimmy), Wanda.
> 
> Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)
> 
> Warnings: none! Mild swearing?
> 
> Word Count: 1.9k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> She’s ready to fight!!! Are you ready? ;) There’s a bit more about the actual baking process in this part. And I’d love to hear your thoughts on this part, all feedback is appreciated and adored! Thank you alll for your love and support. I love you.<3

Recipe development was always one of your favorite parts of the job. Inventing some new product that no one else had thought of, testing it out, and then tasting the end result was a satisfying process. Baking was a science and in order for it all to come together, you had to have the right ingredients in the correct amounts. Some people struggled with baking because it required more attention to detail and a lot of patience. You loved it though, every bit of it. Ever since you started making cookies in your mother’s kitchen as a young girl, you felt at home. **  
**

In order to avoid wasting time and ingredients, you grabbed a few of your current recipes and took them back to your desk to formulate a plan. After about 20 minutes, you decided to modify a scone recipe and a filled croissant. Having written down your adjustments, you grabbed your bag and told Wanda you’d be back shortly before walking down the street to the market.

Stepping inside the store, you felt your stomach clench at the memory of the last time you were there, that night when you’d run into Jimmy. It was mid-morning, though, and the chances of having a repeat interaction were slim to none. Fetching a basket, you walked down the aisle and selected the ingredients you had in mind before stopping at the cheese department and then checking out.

Back at the bakery, you set out your savory ingredients and got to work. You already had a sweet scone that was selling well in your pastry case. The flavor pairing of tart, zesty orange and rich dark chocolate pieces filling the scone and then drizzled with an orange glaze after baking made for a tantalizing treat.

English scones were much like a crumpet or a buttermilk biscuit, but a little more complex. For the savory version you had in mind, you weighed out your dry ingredients like flour, baking powder, and salt, but reducing the amount of sugar so the other flavors would be more prominent. Cutting up the butter into small cubes, you mixed them into the flour until the butter pieces were the size of peas. Next you slowly added the heavy cream and egg mixed together until it became a dough. Last came the sun-dried tomatoes and cubes of Havarti cheese that would bubble and melt to perfection in the oven. The thought of it made your mouth water.

You turned out the dough onto a floured surface and kneaded it with your hands a few times before patting it into a circle and then cutting that into triangles. You placed each one on a baking sheet, brushed them with cream and sprinkled coarse salt on top before sliding them into the oven. Washing your hands, you cleaned up the table and checked in on Wanda before starting your next project.

The filled croissant combination seemed a little odd, but if it worked out, the taste would be divine. Plucking the pears from your grocery bag, you peeled one of them, halved it, removed the seeds, and then began to slice it thinly. After rolling out a piece of croissant dough and cutting it into long triangles, you spread a small amount of spicy mustard on the wider side, placed a slice of smoked gouda cheese over that, and then layered the thin slices of pear on top. Carefully, you rolled up the croissant and placed it on a baking sheet.

It was easier to adjust and experiment with the croissants, since they were rolled individually. You put more cheese in some, more pears in others and then did a few without the mustard, in case the taste was too overwhelming. You wrote the contents of each one on a piece of parchment in black marker and then brushed them with an egg wash before baking. As the timer went off for the scones, the croissants were ready to go in.

You waited a few minutes before trying the scones and as you glanced at the clock, you were surprised so much time had passed. Caught up in your new experiments, it was a shock to realize it was almost lunchtime. Your internal clock was out of whack anyway, given your extra early wake up call this morning. Just then, your phone chimed so you pulled it out and woke up the screen.

A text from “B”. Seeing the initial pop up on your phone made you smile, and just like this morning, there was an attachment. He seemed to be respecting your desire to keep your interactions anonymous, so you weren’t expecting a selfie or anything. However, you also weren’t expecting a picture of a slice of pizza with the sign for Ruby Rosa’s Pizza. The caption read “Best slice in the city.”

Grinning with a bite of your lip, you pulled up the keyboard to respond.

_FG: I might have to fight you on that. Their sauce is much too sweet. I prefer Capizzi’s._

“B” replied with an emoji of a shocked expression with a hand on each cheek.

_B: You can’t be serious. Their crust is all wrong! I really thought we could still be friends after the whole Beatles/Stones debacle but this might be the last straw…_

Letting out a chuckle you, rested your hip against the table and replied.

_FG: If that’s how it is, then so be it. I stand by my pizza. You and your sugary sauce deserve each other. I should have known you’d love it, considering your THREE SUGARS in your coffee._

Those three dots appeared and lingered for a few minutes, so you took that time to taste one of your scones. They were delicious and just as you had hoped, the melted cheese had created delectable little pockets of gooey-ness in the scone, but the sun-dried tomato flavor was much too subtle. It would take at least one more adjusted batch to get it right. You weren’t surprised; sometimes you had to re-make something five times before the recipe was perfect.

B’s response finally arrived.

_B: Whew. Alright, alright. We’ll drop the subject for now. I’ll definitely convert you one of these days, though. So how’s your day been?_

You felt a flip in your stomach first of all, because it meant that he wanted this…whatever it was…to continue. And honestly, so did you. It had only been a short time, but hearing from him had become the highlight of your day. It didn’t matter that you didn’t know his name or what he looked like, in fact it was part of the fun at this point. Pecking out a reply, you sent it and then made notes on your scone recipe as you awaited his reply.

_FG: Day started earlier than I’d like, and ran into that insufferable person but it’s been all uphill since then. :) How about you?_

_B: Man, can’t that jerk take a hint? Franny doesn’t need any of your dickhead-ed behavior. Especially running on less sleep. ;) I’m sorry that happened again. Need any more distractions? I’m available._

Your heart skipped a beat at that last phrase. He probably didn’t mean it in the way you might have interpreted. Maybe? In fact, since you knew almost nothing about him, it was possible that you were conversing with someone who might be…involved? Married? It was a ridiculous notion, since all you were doing was texting, but there was definitely a flirty tone in your conversations. Or you thought so. It was difficult to tell through text.

Just as you were about to respond, you got a phone call and the name on the screen made your face light up as you answered.

“Hi, dad,” you said with a smile.

“Hey, how’s my little Flour Girl? The big city still treating you alright?” you heard your father’s voice through the phone. You spoke at least twice a week and he always asked how you were getting by in the city, even after living there over a year and half. You loved that he still worried, though, so you just smiled and shook your head.

“The city is fine, dad. The shop is still doing great. How are you?” you asked, peeking in the oven at your croissants at the same time.

“Oh, I’m just fine. Not much changes around here, not like in the city.”

You grinned, knowing how much your dad preferred the quiet, small town life. You told him all about your new savory pastries and everything about the shop, but you held back the information about Barnes Bakery and this new “competition” with Jimmy, or whatever it was. That information would only make your father worry and besides, you had it under control.

Your parents had always been supportive of your career choice, never failing to taste your latest cookies or cake experiments growing up. Some of your first memories were of spending time with your mom in the kitchen. Whenever your dad came home from work, most nights he found you in the kitchen covered in flour. Thus, you became his little Flour Girl. A play on words that also rang true.

When your mom got sick during your senior year of high school, you became obsessed with finding new recipes that would sound good to her and that the doctors would approve. Her passing the following summer left an everlasting hole in your life and heart, but she wanted your dreams to come true, no matter what. She even set aside some money for your bakery in her will, making you even more determined to succeed in her honor. Since then, it had just been you and your dad against the world.

“Well, pumpkin, I better sign off. The boss is giving me the eye,” your father told you after a wonderful, lengthy conversation that you definitely needed.

“Yeah, I better get back to work, too. I love you, dad,” you said, trying to hide the emotion in your voice. His phone calls never failed to make you a little homesick, no matter how much you loved living in the city.

“Love you, too, Y/N. You be careful.”

“I will. Bye.”

Lost in your thoughts after hanging up, you jumped a little when the oven timer went off. Pulling out the croissants, you waited for them to cool before tasting a little bit of each one. Confident that you had found a winning combination, you also had Wanda taste them and select her favorite, which also happened to be the same as yours. Never hurt to have a second opinion. One last test batch of your Sun-dried Tomato and Havarti scones and you felt good about the recipes. Clint was going to be blown away and you’d get your spot back in their pastry case. You were sure of it.

Preparing both the croissants and scones to be baked fresh in the morning, you cleaned up your mess and checked what was needed up front. A few more trays of cookies in the oven and you finally pulled out your phone to respond to B’s text.

_FG: Sorry, got interrupted by a phone call and work. But I’ll take a rain check on that distraction._

You read it over one more time, hoping it sounded just a little suggestive but not over the top, and hit send.

_B: No problem. Offer still stands. :)_

Smiling from ear to ear, you left the conversation there and went about your day with a little more pep in your step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OooOOOooohh!!!! Don’t those croissants and scones sound delicious?? *heart eyes* I actually do create recipes and change the flavors of baked good as part of my job. It’s pretty fun. :D And now he find out the origin of the “flour girl” nickname!! That’s pretty sweet, right? And a bit of background about why the reader loves to bake. Whether you sympathize or not, I hope you enjoy those little tidbits. Ooh, a distraction?? B just gets more adorable every day. ;) I’d love to hear your thoughts on this part, any feedback is appreciated. I adore every one of you!! Thank you. <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky (Jimmy), Wanda, Clint.
> 
> Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)
> 
> Warnings: none! Mild swearing?
> 
> Word Count: 2.5k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YOU GUYS. I hope you’re excited. :D We’ve got more tasty pastries and snark and flirting and then…..well, you’ll see. ;) Any and all feedback is appreciated ! I adore you all!! <3

Walking into the Nest the next morning, you felt quite confident about your new pastries. Stepping up to the counter, you weren’t surprised to see Jimmy already there with boxes of his own and a bread rack full of bagels. Not even he could bring down your mood, though, as you set down the pastries and opened the top box. It was a different kind of smell that wafted up toward you with the savory items and even Jimmy was tantalized by it. **  
**

“Ooh, these look new,” you heard Clint comment as he handed Jimmy his paperwork.

“They are,” you confirmed with a wide grin. “Sun-dried Tomato and Havarti scones finished with cream and coarse sea salt. And these are Pear and Smoked Gouda Croissants with a spicy mustard,” you finished describing with a proud nod of your head. Even your admittedly-handsome competition seemed impressed.

“Wow. They sound amazing,” Clint said as he reached for a small plate and a knife. “Guess I’ll give them a try, huh?”

Clint lifted one of the scones with a pair of tongs, placed it on a plate and cut off a piece before popping it in his mouth.

“Mmm. Oh wow,” he muttered with his mouth full. “That’s incredible. Jimmy, you gotta try this.”

The tall brunet barely hesitated before he had a piece of scone in hand. You watched his eyes grow wide upon first taste and all you could do was smile. This was your favorite part. Yes, you loved being in the kitchen and creating, but seeing people’s reactions to something you’ve put so much love and time into making, that was what you yearned to see.

Clint was already sneaking a second piece when Jimmy finally swallowed and gave his opinion.

“It’s, uh….that’s good. I like that combination,” he uttered calmly, clearly downplaying his reaction for your benefit. It didn’t matter what he thought, though, only Clint. Nothing could bring you down this morning.

“Yeah, I thought those flavors would complement each other. This croissant, on the other hand…that took some creativity. There’s a hint of sweetness from the pear but the gouda and mustard really round out the flavor profile. Here,” you offered, picking up one of the croissants and cutting it in half. You offered the plate to the two gentleman.

Clint took a bite and practically groaned as you bounced happily on the balls of your feet. He liked it, you knew it!

“So?” you prompted.

“Uh mah gah,” the blond man nodded enthusiastically with mouth full. “Yeah. That’s one of the best things I’ve ever put in my mouth,” he finally said more clearly after swallowing.

Jimmy, on the other hand, was silent and when you looked over, he had devoured the pastry and was currently licking every morsel from his fingers. You let out a giggle when you heard a small groan from the back of his throat, but when Jimmy saw you noticed, he masked it with a cough as he swallowed.

“Not bad,” he declared calmly while wiping his hands on a napkin. “I have one more thing for you to taste, though, Clint,” Jimmy smirked as he opened a small white box.

You peered inside to see what looked like biscuits of some sort so you glanced at Jimmy quizzically.

He shrugged. “I had some spare time so I thought I’d try something new. Buttermilk biscuits with cheddar and chives,” Jimmy explained as he placed one of the flaky biscuits on a plate.

Gaping at him, you glanced from the man before you and the biscuit Clint was cutting in half. “YOU bake? You made these?” you questioned.

Jimmy laughed at your reaction. “Of course I bake! My dad’s been in the business almost all my life, you don’t think he’s taught me a few things? Frankly, I’m insulted, Y/N,” he replied, putting on a fake pout.

You rolled your eyes at his dramatics. “Yeah, well, I guess you don’t seem like the type to get your hands dirty, Mr. Business Degree,” you mocked with a cheeky grin.

The brunet opened his mouth to respond, but Clint interrupted. “Ooh, that’s good, too. Try it, Y/N.”

Eyeing the biscuit, you picked it up gingerly and sniffed it. Jimmy scoffed at your hesitation but you were truly giving it a full evaluation. The biscuit was nice and flaky, tender without being fragile, and speckled with bits of cheddar and chives. Taking a bite, your eyes flew open at the surprising burst of flavor in your mouth. Dammit. He could bake. You took your time chewing and swallowing, then reaching for a napkin before you turned his way.

“It doesn’t suck,” you told him flatly, but he had already seen your previous expression. Jimmy just grinned, looking pretty proud of himself.

“Alright, kids,” Clint piped up,”if you have more for me to sell today, we’ll see how it goes. Send me the ingredients list and pricing info. Gotta get back to it.” The sandy-haired older man gathered a few of the boxes in his arms and handed them to one of his baristas to stock the pastry case.

Giving Jimmy a hard look, you turned on your heel and headed for the door.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N,” he called out to you, but you dismissed him with a wave of your hand.

Once you had returned to the bakery, you checked in out front but Wanda had things under control. You mixed up a batch of cinnamon roll dough and while it was rising, you went to your computer and pulled up the recipe program you used.

For each recipe, you entered all the amounts for every ingredient. It took a long time to enter each recipe when you first started using it, but now it only took a few minutes for every new item. All of your ingredients and prices were stored in the program, so once everything was entered, it gave you a summary of nutritional information and how much it cost to make the full recipe.

Based on the amount of servings, it also told you how much each scone, for example, costs you to make. You took that information and factored in the time you spent making it, along with hopefully adding a profit, and it gave you the price you had to charge your wholesale customers. Prices were a little higher at your retail bakery.

Your new savory items had good, quality ingredients and took a little more time to make, which also meant they were a bit more expensive. Clint would understand, though. Obviously he loved the scone and croissant. Right? Typing up an email, you gave him the price information and also a list of ingredients in case any customers asked about allergies or something. After hitting send, you checked on your dough, but it still had another 15 minutes or so to rise.

Popping a tray of cookies in the oven upon Wanda’s request, you then sat down again to do some paperwork. To your surprise, you saw a new email pop up from Clint, so you clicked to open it. That was quick. Your heart sank a little as you read it, though. Apparently, he couldn’t purchase both of your new items because of the higher cost. He wanted to keep the Pear Gouda croissant, but according to him “the scone was similar to that new biscuit, which was cheaper to buy, so we’re keeping that one.”

Of course. How did Barnes Bakery keep inching their way in? It was good that Clint liked the croissant, but it was only half of what you hoped to accomplish. Your products needed more exposure in order for your business to grow and if Jimmy the Jerk kept taking up space, it was less likely you would be able to gain more ground.

Taking a deep breath, you sent off a quick response to Clint and thanked him for buying the new croissant. It wasn’t his fault that Jimmy was a little weasel. Clint had to do what was best for his business, too. Pushing away the paperwork, you thought for a moment and grabbed your phone.

_FG: Could I cash in that rain check for a distraction?_

Sending the text to B, you left the office and washed your hands to begin the cinnamon rolls. Seconds later, you heard a text alert and glanced at the screen.

_B: Of course! In fact, I have some spare time so I thought I’d take a stroll in the park. Can I take you along with me?_

Frowning down at the text, you wondered what he could possibly mean by that, but you replied.

_FG: Oooookay????_

Placing your phone on the table but out of the way, you turned on some music and began to roll out the dough. The next text came only a few minutes later. You dusted off one flour-covered hand and opened the text to see a picture of the leaves changing colors in Central Park.

_B: Don’t you just love New York in the Fall?_

The photo and caption made you grin. Yes, you did love Fall. In fact, it was your favorite season, but now that you thought about it, you barely even had the time to notice the changing leaves and slight chill in the morning air. You’d been working so much that you forgot to take a breath and look up once in a while.

Another message arrived a moment later. This one, with a photo of the sun peaking out from behind the Bethesda Fountain, giving the bronze angel a backlit outline. It was a great shot, actually. No caption this time, just a sun emoji.

You spread the cinnamon mixture and sprinkled the pecans before rolling your dough into a spiral log. Another text alert sounded. You had changed the setting on your phone so the screen wouldn’t sleep for hours and now, even with messy hands, you were able to peek at the messages. He seemed to understand your lack of responses, given his next text.

_B: You’re probably busy and you don’t have to respond but I hope my tour of Central Park can put a smile on your face. :) And that you don’t mind me blowing up your phone. ;)_

Your heart leapt at that, suddenly grateful that this near-stranger was willing to take the time just to cheer you up. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought you might be falling for him. That was crazy. Right?

Another photo popped up, this one of an adorable dog with a hand reaching out to pet his furry head. Whose hand? Was it HIS hand? It seemed to be, from the angle of the photo. Your heart rate spiked again, just seeing even a small part of him. Your mind wandered to what he might actually look like, but you really had nothing to go on. It was your own fault, agreeing to not share any personal information. The more you thought about it, though, the more you knew it didn’t matter. If B were as sweet in person as he was through text, then you would appreciate his looks no matter what.

The texts continued for most of the day as you worked, popping in to respond when you could. He walked through the park for quite some time, sharing a photo of a rollerblader who was mid-fall that he caught at just the right time. You felt better about laughing after B said he was just fine. Another photo included what you would say was the same hand, this time holding a hot dog from a street vendor. Hopefully he washed that handsome hand after petting the real live dog. Yikes.

Somehow you made it through your afternoon of baking but ended up helping Wanda during the late rush, so you missed any texts from B for a while. When you finally got a break, you went straight to your phone that was finally fully charged. It nearly died after being unlocked for so long. Eagerly opening your messages, you realized that slowly you had become invested in his “distractions” and photos depicting his movements throughout the day. You wanted to know what he would do or say next. He shared a photo of a baseball game and later a view of the Brooklyn Bridge taken from somewhere near the water. The last picture he sent was of the sunset over the skyline with a caption.

_B: Hope your day has improved and maybe I might have had something to do with that if I’m lucky. :)_

Grinning like a fool, you felt undeniably drawn to this person. You kept scrolling to see a few more messages near the end of the day.

_B: I have somewhere to be and sharing would probably give away some of that carefully guarded information, so I’ll sign off for the night._

You actually felt a little disappointed at that. Suddenly, you were incredibly curious to know where he was headed and what he couldn’t share. Could you maybe push beyond that barrier? Now you felt a little silly to be so skeptical about letting him see your true self. His last text stopped you in your tracks, however.

_B: Maybe someday we can share the day together in person…._

You read the words over and over until you finally comprehended their meaning. He…wanted to meet you. In person. It was vague, sure, but that was probably just out of respect for you. You were the one who was holding back. Setting down your phone, you leaned your elbows on the wooden table and put your head in your hands. Why did this feel like such a big deal? Why did this seem like a life-changing decision to make? Because you had…connected? With a stranger? You couldn’t even call him that anymore. He was a friend.  

Inhaling deeply, you pushed away from the table and unlocked your phone to reply. After pacing a few times, you finally typed a short message and hit send before you lost your nerve.

_FG: Did you really mean that? About meeting in person?_

Those few seconds after sending almost felt like a heart attack. Quickly, you locked your phone and stepped away from it to avoid fixating on expecting a reply. You planned to help Wanda close the bakery, but before you even left the kitchen, you heard the chime. Sprinting back to your phone, you opened the text immediately.

_B: YES. You pick the time and place, I’ll be there._

Heart hammering in your chest, you inhaled a shuddering breath and exhaled. Was this really happening? Running every possible scenario through your head at lightning speed, you finally shook your head to stop overthinking it. The ball was in your court. It was up to you if or when it happened. This man has been nothing but sweet and respectful to you and quite frankly…he had become one of the best parts of your life right now. You deserved a bit of happiness.

Pecking a few letters into your phone, you finally hit send.

_FG: Okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeee!!!!! It’s happening!!!! :D Ugh, I know, Jimmy keep weaseling his way in but she had a little success too! I guess we’ll have to see what happens next. ;) Also! There really is a program where you can store recipes and figure out nutritional info and prices and stuff. I’ve used a few before. Kinda fun. Did you love B’s walk through the park and sharing of photos? I seriously LOVE Fall plus I just had to add that line from “You’ve Got Mail”. ;) So???? He wants to meet! She said Yes!!! What happens now?? I hope you’re excited. :D I love you all! Please let me know your thoughts, I always love to hear from you. <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky (Jimmy), Wanda.
> 
> Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)
> 
> Warnings: none! Mild swearing?
> 
> Word Count: 2.9k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *incoherent screaming* I’m really looking forward to your thoughts on this part!! :D Any and all feedback is appreciated!! I love you guys.

“No,” you muttered to yourself in disbelief. “No, no, no, no!” **  
**

Having reached the bottom step of the staircase leading to the cellar, you stared at the empty spot on the shelf with despair. Your legs seemed to collapse on their own as you took a seat directly on the step.

You were out of flour.

Dropping your head in your hands, you thought it over and remembered the broken bag of flour that you had neglected to replace when Sam offered the previous week. You would receive several 50 pound bags the day after tomorrow, but that did you no good in your moment of desperation. Business had been going well, thankfully, but that also meant you had been making larger batches of items that required more flour. With that, on top of your savory pastry experiments, you must have used up most of your last bag without realizing.

You were 2 pounds short on the recipe you were currently making and there was still so much left to bake until the flour arrived. If you had to wait, it would be disastrous. Allowing yourself to wallow at the decisions of your past self, you leaned your head against the wall a few minutes before climbing back up the stairs and formulating a plan.

_______

The morning had started off so well and it had the makings of a spectacular day. After agreeing to meet B in person, much to your jittery nerves, you set up plans for coffee the following afternoon. He left all planning up to you, so you thought it over before replying.

It had to be somewhere public and during the day, for safety reasons. You wanted to trust this man you had begun to fall for, but that Stranger Danger sense of self-preservation still lingered. Your dad would be proud. Finally you settled on somewhere familiar and comfortable that was also close enough to the bakery, should Wanda desperately need you. You pecked out a reply and nervously hit send.

_FG: How about 4pm tomorrow? There’s a great cafe called the Hawk’s Nest. Do you know it?_

_B: I know it very well, actually. Wouldn’t it be crazy if we had passed each other there without even realizing? 4pm sounds perfect!_

Reading his reply, butterflies gathered in your stomach. You hadn’t thought about that. What if you had seen B in person before without knowing that it was him? Part of you thought you might instinctively know him, but with no idea what he looked like, it was highly improbable. You had been to the Nest hundreds of times since moving into the neighborhood. If he was a frequent visitor…could he possibly live nearby?

Your mind was jumping to conclusions again, so you blinked a few times to clear your thoughts and focused on the screen in front of you.

_FG: I’ll be there. :)_

Three dots appeared as you awaited his response.

_B: Wait! How will we know each other?_

Thinking for a moment, you came up with a solution and smiled. This air of mystery was still kind of fun and you surprisingly didn’t want to know what he looked like beforehand. Well, you did, but maybe it would be best to reveal your identities to each other at the same time. An idea popped into your head with a smile so you typed out your thoughts and hit send.

_FG: I’ll be wearing my Beatles t-shirt. ;)_

A laughing emoji popped up almost immediately.

_B: Deal! And I’ll be representing the Stones. I’ll see you tomorrow, Franny. :)_

You laughed at the nickname, feeling anxious that in roughly 24 hours he would know your true name. And what you looked like. Nervous energy flowed through you once again, so you locked your phone and took a deep breath. A wide smile stretched across your face and suddenly, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. Practically skipping toward the front of the bakery, you grasped Wanda’s hands in your own, causing her to drop the towel she was using to wipe down the counter but you didn’t care.

“I have a date!” you shouted with glee. “Well, I think it’s a date. Maybe. I don’t know, but he’s the sweetest and funniest and I’m so excited!” you finally paused to take a breath. Wanda looked at you in shock at first and then shared your excitement with a toothy smile.

“That’s amazing, Y/N! You have a date! With who?” Wanda asked enthusiastically.

You paused a moment at her inquiry. “Well…it’s kind of a funny story…”

______________

After your long chat with Wanda in between customers and baking more items for the pastry case, she was almost as excited for your “date” as you were. A few years ago, it would have been crazy to meet a stranger in person that you barely met, but with the internet and dating apps, it was now the new normal. Well, technically, you knew less about him than you would on a dating app, but you were cautious in your plans and felt like it was about time you two met.

That entire evening, you couldn’t stop smiling and practically danced through the cleaning and dishes while helping Wanda close the shop. Not even a call from a tenant at 10pm about a noise complaint could dampen your spirits. Luckily, the noise-makers were willing to turn down their music without any more drama. You didn’t know why the complainers couldn’t solve it themselves, but whatever. People were strange.

The next morning, you hopped out of bed at the first ring of your alarm with a smile on your face. You didn’t want to think that this guy was the sole reason for your smile, but after working almost constantly since your bakery opened, for once you had something to look forward to outside your job. It was a nice change and that spark of joy carried throughout your morning of baking and even as you made your deliveries.

Jimmy was at the counter at the Nest when you arrived and, of course, he had the closest parking spot, but even that couldn’t dull your shine.

“What’s got you grinning so early in the morning, Y/N?” he asked with a skeptical gaze.

Smirking in his direction, you just kept on smiling. “That’s none of your business, Barnes. Can’t I just have a great morning that’s worth smiling about?”

Jimmy scoffed. “I rarely find anything amusing before 9am, personally,” he said, taking a sip of his coffee.

“How sad for you,” you mocked, then accepting your signed paperwork from the cafe’s owner. “Thanks, Clint. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See ya, Y/N,” Clint replied as you offered one more amused smile to the brunet before exiting.

Arriving back at the bakery, you dove directly into baking with enthusiasm. You were trying to get as much done as possible early in the morning so you might actually have some time to freshen up before your coffee date later. It was during your second recipe that you discovered your flour dilemma.

Upon returning from the cellar, you took a deep breath and ran through a few options in your head. You could buy small bags of flour from the grocery store, but it would be ridiculously expensive and also the chance that it would be organic were slim to nil. Not to mention the change in gluten content, which would mean you’d have to alter each of your recipes. That would be low on your list of options. Next, you went to your office and got a list of bakeries in the area that might have your brand of flour.

Six calls later, you were unsuccessful. One was gluten-free, and therefore had no wheat flour, a few were sympathetic to your cause, but were on the same delivery schedule as you and couldn’t offer their flour for fear of running out themselves. Two of the bakeries flat-out laughed at you for even suggesting they help out the competition. They better hope they never need your help in the future, you thought as you scribbled out the last bakery on your notepad with a pen.

You sat at a table out front as you had made your phone calls, since service was spotty back in your office. Wanda helped out a few customers and as they walked out the door, she came to sit across from you.

“I think you really only have one option, Y/N. I know you’re not gonna like it, but…” she pursed her lips in sympathy. You had told her your problem and apparently came to the same conclusion you had.

Groaning out loud, you finally picked up your phone and found the number you hoped you would never need to call. You hit the green button and the line began to ring.

“Barnes Bakery, how may I help you?” a female voice answered.

You let out a breath that you didn’t know you held, feeling like part of you expected Jimmy to answer. Other than deliveries, you didn’t really know his responsibilities, so it’s possible he answers the phone. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case.

“Yes, this is Y/N calling from City Sweets Bakery? Could I speak to the owner, please?”

____________

The drive out to Brooklyn wasn’t bad, actually. It wasn’t often that you made your way across the Brooklyn Bridge and it was actually nice to get out of the 5 or 6 blocks of neighborhood that you only seemed to frequent.

Pulling up to the building on the address the girl shared, you parked at the nearest corner where the retail shop was found. There was an awning that displayed the Barnes Bakery name and also a vertical neon sign attached to the side of the building that presumably lit up at night.

Stepping in the front door, a bell jangled overhead and the heavenly smell of bread overcame you. The counter was in an “L” shape along the left wall with racks full of all types of breads and rolls and bagels straight ahead, each bagged by the dozen or half dozen and ready to be purchased. What truly caught your eye was the large picture window set into the right wall that allowed spectators to watch the enormous production factory in action.

Your eyes widened as you took in the giant dough mixers and large metal tables where people in aprons and hairnets shaped huge blobs of yeast dough at an incredible speed. No matter what your feelings were toward the Barnes’, business-wise, you couldn’t help to be impressed by the efficiency and size of their bakery.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” a familiar voice called out from behind you, causing your shoulders to tense.

Turning around, you spotted a smirking Jimmy behind the counter wearing an apron. No hairnet for you to mock, unfortunately, but he was wearing a backwards baseball cap, which was amusing. Taking a deep breath, you had to remind yourself that they were doing you a favor, so you tried to paint on a pleasant smile as you approached the counter.

“Hello, Jimmy. I spoke to your father earlier about borrowing a bag of flour?” you asked, placing your hands on the glass display case.

“Yeah, he said something about that. Our delivery guy just got here so I’ll go check with him. I’ll be right back. Don’t miss me too much,” he teased with a wink as he walked through a door into the cavernous factory. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes behind his back.

When you spoke to the owner, George Barnes, he was more than willing to help you out, much to your surprise. You half expected him to be just as cocky and prickly as his son, Jimmy. Thankfully, that wasn’t the case. Lucky for you, his bakery was on a different delivery schedule, and in fact they were expecting more flour that very day. Their facility was large enough that they could store a surplus of flour and it was likely they never ran out, which made you envious. They also happened to carry the same organic wheat flour you used and Mr. Barnes was perfectly pleasant about the whole thing. It almost made you wonder how he could be related to Jimmy, who seemed to make it his mission in life to be a thorn in your side.

You heard voices getting louder as two men rounded the corner and to your surprise, you knew them both.

“…borrow a bag, so if you’ll just take that out to her car, that’d be great, man,” Jimmy finished as the second man wheeled a bag of flour on a hand cart with two wheels, often used for moving boxes and other large items.

“Sam?” you called out in shock.

“Y/N, hey!” your regular delivery driver said with a smile. “I guess this is for you, then? For that broken bag last week, shit, I’m sorry about that.”

You waved his apology away, know it wasn’t his fault. “It’s okay, I worked it out, thanks to the Barnes’,” you smiled with your eyes flickering to Jimmy’s.

“Well, I’m glad for that. Which is your car?”

“It’s right out front, here, I’ll pop the trunk,” you said as you hit a button on your keychain.

“Alright, I’ll be back,” Sam said, giving a two-finger salute.

Turning back toward Jimmy, there was a beat of silence before you spoke up. “So…do I need to sign something, or….”

“Oh, right! Yeah,” Bucky suddenly remembered as he slid the paper over to you.

Scrawling quickly on the paper, you gathered your keys and prepared to leave.

“Full signature, please,” Jimmy requested with a smirk as he looked down at your scribbled signature. “What does that even say? Doesn’t look like your initials…” he trailed off with a furrowed brow, squinting at the paper.

Accepting the paper and pen again, you answered while you signed. “It’s not. It actually says “FG”, but it’s a habit signing that way,” you sighed, sliding it across the counter one last time.

“What did you say?” Jimmy asked in a quiet voice, which brought your gaze up to his. He seemed to be confused at that, so you went on to explain the initials quickly.

You huffed out a mildly annoyed sigh. “It’s a nickname. My dad calls me Flour Girl cause when I was younger, he would come home from work to see me covered head to toe in flour from baking. It’s silly, but I like having the connection to him while I’m far from home. Happy?” you uttered in a short tone.

Jimmy continued to stare down at the paper as if his gaze might burn a hole through it. “Um…can you…stay? For a moment? I just need to…check on something,” he stammered, seeming to have lost his usual boastful nature for the moment.

Glancing at your watch, you bit your lip in impatience, but nodded anyway. “Okay, fine.”

Jimmy disappeared around the corner then, so you leaned your elbows on the counter and watched the team of employees making bread through the window. It wasn’t that weird to have a nickname like that, right? You loved having that reminder of your dad and had even gotten used to signing the initials at work, too, like labeling containers in the fridge along with the date and what was inside. Labeling was extra important to avoid spoilage and it was also required for when the Sanitation Inspector came around. Any infractions reflected poorly on your business.

You also made the initials your text signature because on the rare occasion that your dad texted, he loved to see that reminder pop up. That you were still his little Flour Girl, no matter what.

Lost in your thoughts, your phone chirped and you fished it out to see a text on your screen. Unlocking the device, a message from B brought a huge smile to your face.

_B: Franny!! I’m withholding all my coffee consumption today until I can share it with you. :)_

Chuckling at the message, you typed out a reply and hit send.

_FG: Well, that’s a high price to pay, but I appreciate it. I’ll see you soon. :)_

As soon as the message sent, you pocketed your phone and saw Jimmy return out of the corner of your eye. He seemed to be…not like himself. He still carried the signed paper and had one hand in his pocket as he reached you.

Quirking an eyebrow, you finally addressed his behavior. “What’s wrong with you? No witty remarks today?”

Jimmy blinked at that and shook his head quickly. “Um…nope. Guess I left my wit in my other pants,” he muttered, gaze still on the paper.

You let out a snort, to your surprise and he finally looked up. “Yeah, well…am I good to go? Plenty more work to be done,” you said in anticipation.

“Yeah, sorry. All good,” he nodded with a faltering smile.

“Okay. Tell your dad thanks again,” you told him, shouldering your bag. “I’ll see you around, Barnes.”

Sam had reached the outside of the door as you approached, so he opened it for you. “You’re all set, Y/N. Guess I’ll see you in a few days?”

“Thanks, Sam. Yup, I’ll see you later,” you replied with a wave as you reached your car.

The drive back into the city took a little longer than you hoped, but you felt that nervous excitement fill you again while entering the bakery. Opening the new bag of flour, you channeled your giddy nervousness into productive energy as you watched the clock until your date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoooooly crap, you guys!!! Go ahead, scream at me. I’ve been expecting it. ;) I know, we’re not quite to the meeting but SO MUCH STUFF IS HAPPENING!!!! Did you pick up on the clues?? We got to see Sam for a few minutes! And a visit to Brooklyn, what was that about?? heh. Some of you suspected that missing bag of flour would come back to bite her and here we are….oops. Sweet Wanda is so excited for her! And just keep in mind, we’re only halfway through this series. ;) I adore you all!! Any and all feedback is appreciated!! Thank you. <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky (Jimmy), Wanda, Clint.
> 
> Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)
> 
> Warnings: none! Mild swearing?
> 
> Word Count: 2.1k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummmm. So, yeah. :) I know, there’s been so much anticipation leading up to this part!! Just know that there’s a lot more story coming and just trust me, it’ll all work out. I’m actually still on vacation as you read this so I can’t wait to get home tomorrow to read all your reactions!! I love you all. As always, any feedback is adored and appreciated!! <3

The afternoon went by in a blur as you tried your best to work quickly and efficiently until your date. The lunch rush came and went, followed by a short lull in customers so during that time, you baked extra back-up for Wanda to fill the pastry case with while you were gone. Another short rush came so you went up front to help. As 3pm neared, Wanda basically shoved you out the door so you could get ready and head over to the cafe. **  
**

You didn’t have time to fully shower and do your hair, but you cleaned up as best you could and made sure there wasn’t any flour or cake batter visible. Slipping on your favorite Beatles shirt, you paired it with a comfortable but flattering pair of jeans and cute shoes you could walk in. Putting on makeup for the first time in a while, you liked the way it accented your features and made you feel more dressed up than you were. With one more primp of your hair, you grabbed a jacket and headed down the stairs onto the sidewalk.

As you walked past the bakery, Wanda waved and gave you a thumbs up, which you returned. You arrived at the Hawk’s Nest with 10 minutes to spare, so you looked around to carefully select a table.

“Welcome to the Hawk’s Nest, can I help you?”

Whirling to face the familiar voice you laughed. “Clint, it’s me.”

The blond’s eyes widened. “Y/N? Wow, you look great! I mean…you look different.”

You just shrugged with a smile. “You mean I’m actually wearing something without flour on it and put makeup on for once?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Well, it’s a good look. What brings you here in the afternoon?” Clint asked, walking around the counter to clear one of the tables covered in coffee mugs.

“Actually,” you said nervously, “I’m meeting someone. Sort of a…blind date?”

Clint offered an encouraging smile as he stepped closer. “That’s great, Y/N! You work too hard. I hope it works out for you,” he said with a friendly squeeze of your arm.

“Thanks, Clint,” you smiled shyly and headed for a table.

You sat at a table for two with your chair facing the door. Checking the clock again, it was eight minutes until 4pm. Fidgeting nervously, you pulled your jacket open so your shirt was visible, but then decided to take the jacket off entirely and placed it on the back of your chair. You straightened the sugar packets in their small container on the table and brushed away any crumbs visible. A voice nearby spoke then, making you jump.

“Hey, Y/N,” Clint began, noticing your jumpy behavior. “Whoa, sorry. I guess you don’t need this coffee, since you seem pretty alert already, but here’s your usual. It’s on the house.” He placed the coffee drink on the table with a wink and then walked away.

“Thank you,” you called out after him.

You had considered ordering a drink while you waited, but then you’d have to get another one when B arrived. Right? Wasn’t that the proper protocol? You weren’t even sure anymore. Regardless, you blew on the mug of coffee lightly and took a sip of the comforting elixir. Five minutes until 4pm.

Each time the bell above the door chimed, your eyes flew to whoever was entering. There were all sorts of people: an elderly couple with arms linked, a girl with her nose buried in a book, and three young teenagers who laughed and joke around as they ordered. There was a close call when an attractive man entered, but his girlfriend, you assumed, entered a moment later.

Your fingers tapped on the table as the minute hand on the clock ticked closer to vertical. You held your breath as it struck 4pm and your eyes were trained on the door for what felt like eons. A minute passed. Then two. Digging out your phone, you checked the time to make sure the clock was correct, and it was. Sipping your coffee, you jiggled your leg under the table to vent some of your nervous energy.

Five minutes late, but you figured he just might not be a very punctual person. Taking your last sip of coffee, suddenly you had nothing else to occupy your hands or your attention. At ten minutes past 4pm, you pulled out your phone to check for a text you might have missed, but there was nothing. So, you decided to send a message of your own, just in case.

_FG: Still planning on the Hawk’s Nest, right? Didn’t break your phone already, did you? ;)_

You hit send, hoping your text sounded light-hearted and not like nagging. Watching the text send and then be marked as “delivered”, you now knew it wasn’t the fault of his phone. Where was he? Your mind began to run wild then, envisioning scenarios where possibly he was hurt somewhere or held captive. Maybe he was stuck on a subway train or in traffic. What if he just decided not to come and it was all a ruse? What if, what if, what if?

B was now 20 minutes late with no messages on your phone. Feeling the disappointment settle in your heart, you thought about leaving right then. Perhaps he wasn’t the person you thought he was. Or maybe it had all been a facade. Maybe you got “catfished”, or whatever the term was, and he wasn’t a young man in his 20’s but an old man. Or a woman. Who knows?

Just as you were reaching behind you for your jacket, the door jangled and your heart leapt in your chest. Eyes flying to the door, you held on to hope until….you saw him. Jimmy. Unbelievable. Hoping he hadn’t noticed your presence, you hunched down over the table and put up a hand, shielding your face. Maybe he would just order and go away without you having to speak to him at all, you prayed.

You heard him greet Clint and then the sound of footsteps drawing closer filled your ears. No. Please, no.

“Y/N? Is that you?” Jimmy asked from where he stood beside your table.

Begrudgingly dropping your hand, you finally looked up to reply. “Jimmy. What are you doing here?” you asked coldly.

This was not the time. You couldn’t deal with him in your current state. He looked perfect as always in black jeans and a zipped up hoodie with his hair expertly quaffed. Obviously he had cleaned up since you saw him earlier because there wasn’t a hint of hat hair on that head. Why did his very presence mock you somehow?

He shrugged. “I was in the neighborhood. Listen, I—“

Suddenly, you slid you chair back with a scrape of the wood and got to your feet. “Not now, Jimmy,” you said in a clipped voice as you slipped on your jacket and took a step toward the door.

Jimmy gripped your arm lightly. “Hey, wait, I—“

“No!” you exclaimed, a little too loudly as you shook off his hand. “Can’t I have one moment’s peace? One day where I don’t have to feel your little jabs and criticisms about how I’ll never make it in the business world? About how I’m doomed to fail? I’ve wanted this my entire life and I’ve worked too hard for too long and sacrificed too much for you to try to take it away from me,” you snarled angrily within inches of his face.

Jimmy seemed speechless but he couldn’t have stopped your rant, anyway. There was a pent up fury that was suddenly being unleashed from inside you.

“I haven’t had an actual day off since I opened the bakery. Why? Because it is _mine_. All mine, I’m not riding on my daddy’s coattails. I have built this business with my bare hands and I won’t let you or anyone take that away from me. I’ll wake up at 4am and bake until my lungs are white with flour, I’ll plunge toilets in the middle of the night when tenants call, I’ll scrub floors and do dishes until my hands crack and bleed. Because that’s what it takes. I want this more than anything and you have no right to criticize because you know nothing about my life or my business,” you finished, finally taking a breath and standing up straight with conviction.

The brunet’s mouth had gaped open sometime during your unleashing of words and he still had yet to recover.

Straightening your jacket, you began to feel the anger drain from you, leaving behind the heartbreak and sadness of being stood up. Refusing to fall apart in front of this man, you squared your shoulders and looked him in the eye.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a business to run,” you declared, storming out of the cafe and down the sidewalk before the tears began to fall.

Wanda was surprised to see you returning so early, but when she saw the look on your face, she knew. She excused herself from the one customer at the counter and followed you back into the kitchen where she wrapped her arms around you without a word. You clung to her and cried for a few minutes until you finally pulled yourself together. Wiping your tears and blowing your nose, you gave Wanda the short account of what happened. He never came.

She asked a few questions, but there were customers to attend to and it was still a little too raw to speak of, so you said you’d tell her later and asked her to get back to work. There was no time for you to fall apart. Making yourself presentable, you passed through the bakery once again and headed upstairs to change. Looking down at the crumpled Beatles shirt on your floor, your heart squeezed. How could you have gotten it so wrong? Had you misread all the signs?

You went back to the kitchen and focused on what you did best: baking. Blasting music and singing along, you did your best to distract yourself. As the night ended and you closed the bakery with Wanda, you finally offered more details about what happened, including your encounter with Jimmy. She was impressed by your outburst and only wished she could have seen the look on his face. It was a pretty spectacular face, you admitted with a small smile.

As you were about to lock to door, you finally voiced the worry that had been rattling around in your brain.

“What if he showed up, took one look at me…and left?” you asked with eyes downcast.

“No,” the long-haired brunette assured you instantly. “Whatever his deal is, it has nothing to do with you. If he’s everything you had told me, then there has to be a logical explanation for him not showing up. You are amazing and beautiful and a badass baking boss who deserves someone who will not be intimidated by that. And if it’s not this B guy, then forget him,” Wanda said sternly as she pulled you into yet another hug.

You let out a watery smile and thanked her before watching her walk to the subway station and then climbing the steps up to your own home. Getting ready for bed, you slipped out of your pants and plucked your phone from the pocket. You hadn’t been able to bring yourself to check for messages as you worked, mostly assuming there wouldn’t be any.

Tossing the device on your bed, you washed your face, dressed, and crawled under the covers. Only when you plugged in your phone to charge did you see the screen illuminate, showing a text message waiting for you. With shaking fingers, you opened it.

_B: I’m sorry. There are no words that could possibly express how sorry I am. I wanted to be there so badly. I have no excuse. Someday, I hope that I can explain but right now….I can’t. I won’t expect you to forgive me and if you never wish to text me again, I’ll understand. But just in case you do…I’m still here._

Feeling tears threaten, you locked your phone and set it aside. A small sob escaped as you curled around your pillow, wishing and praying for a deep, dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh!! I know, I know, I’m sorry!!! It absolutely broke my heart to write this part, but this is the way it had to go. This is far from the end, though, so I hope you’ll trust me to make it right. Some of you will say that she should have let him speak because yes, maybe he would have told her the truth, but I really think what it comes down to is...she wasn't ready to hear it. That screaming rant at Jimmy feels a little cathartic, though, right?? He deserves it, for sure. Now we get to see if what’s been broken will be able to come back together again. I adore you all and again, I’m sorry for the heartbreak. It’ll all be okay, I promise. :) I’m still on vacation as you read this so I’ll reply when I’m home! Please let me know your thoughts, I live for your comments and feedback!! Thank you. <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky (Jimmy), Wanda, Clint, George Barnes.
> 
> Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)
> 
> Warnings: none! Mild swearing?
> 
> Word Count: 3.3k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, my darlings!! I hope you’ve recovered from the last chapter. ;) So what do you think? Does Jimmy have what it takes to win her back? Will she let him? I guess we’ll find out! :D This part is pretty packed, I hope you’re ready! Thank you all for your comments and screaming and tears and I’m sorry about your poor hearts! I hope I can begin to mend it. :) As always, any feedback is appreciated!! I adore you all. <3

Cringing as your alarm sounded the next morning, you shut it off and laid still a few minutes while staring at the ceiling. It felt exactly the opposite from yesterday morning’s energy and excitement. What a difference 24 hours could make. Feeling the heaviness in your heart and the tired ache of your bones, you finally rolled out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom. The mirror reflected your swollen, red eyes, so you splashed cold water on your face and went about your day. **  
**

It all seemed a bit ridiculous to be so distraught, since you hadn’t known B for very long. In fact, you didn’t know him at all and now you doubted you ever would. Your mind flickered to the text message you received last night, wondering why he was unable to show up or give you any sort of notice until then. He was still there, meaning you could still text but for some reason, meeting in person wasn’t going to happen. Your heart clenched at the thought of opening yourself up again.

Could you forgive him? Was it even worth it to continue corresponding? You felt the sadness and embarrassment of sitting in the cafe alone while watching the clock tick. Shaking it off, you got ready for your day and headed down the stairs to work. No matter what state your heart was in, there was always work to be done.

Later as you finished boxing your pastries for delivery, you thought about your last scheduled stop at the Nest. Your stomach clenched at the memories of what took place there yesterday. The thought of seeing Jimmy again made your shoulders tense, wondering how he would react after your outburst. You didn’t regret what you had said because every word was true, but doing it in a public place, especially at Clint’s place of business, gathered some warmth in your cheeks. You’d have to apologize when you saw him. Clint, not Jimmy. The cocky brunet didn’t deserve another moment of your time.

Waving goodbye to Wanda, you hopped in your car and headed out to deliver. As you later approached the Nest, you spotted the Barnes Bakery van in the closest parking spot once again.  Surprise, surprise. Pushing through the door with boxes in hand, you braced yourself to see Jimmy at the counter, but instead, there was an older man laughing and joking with Clint. You stopped short to see the man was on the taller side, his dark hair thinning on top. He had a kind, weathered face, youthful eyes, and was wearing a Barnes Bakery t-shirt.

Reaching the counter you set down your boxes and Clint’s attention turned to you.

“Y/N, good morning! Have you met George Barnes, the owner of Barnes Bakery?” Clint indicated to the man beside you.

It all clicked then, seeing the family resemblance between Jimmy and his father. “No, I haven’t. Good morning, Mr. Barnes. I’m Y/N from City Sweets Bakery. Thank you so much, again, for the flour yesterday,” you mentioned, offering your hand.

Mr. Barnes accepted it and placed his other warm palm over your joined hands. “It’s my pleasure, Y/N. And please, George is just fine. It’s so nice to meet you and Clint in person, finally. I don’t get out of Brooklyn often these days, but when Jimmy said he was sick, I thought I’d offer to deliver,” the man smiled warmly.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, too, George,” you replied, returning his smile. “Thank you again, I will return that bag of flour when I receive mine tomorrow,” you assured him.

He shrugged, unconcerned. “No rush, I know you’re good for it. Well, I better get back. Seems we’re short-staffed today. Good to meet you both,” George waved as he headed for the door, leaving you and Clint at the counter.

Clint stared after him a moment and you followed his gaze. “Nice guy. Too bad about Jimmy, though. Hope he gets better soon.”

“Yeah…” you trailed off, then turning back to the sandy-haired man. “Listen, I’m sorry about yesterday, Clint. I didn’t mean to make a scene here, it was rude and unprofessional and I apologize.”

The man finally met your eye, then taking in your contrite expression. “What, you getting into it with Jimmy?” he asked and you nodded in reply. “That’s okay, I like a little afternoon drama. So…I take it he wasn’t who you were here to meet? The guy didn’t show?” he asked in concern.

You took in a shuddered breath, shaking your head. “No.”

Clint place a hand over yours on the counter. “I’m sorry. I know you and Jimmy have a bit of tension there, so him showing up along with being stood up…I don’t blame you. Guy’s an idiot, by the way,” he gave your hand a squeeze before turning his attention to the pastries.

You were grateful for that, since your eyes seemed to be prickling with the threat of tears. _Not now,_ you told yourself while clearing your throat. “Thank you.”

Clint signed the paperwork and you were on your way.

____________

The following morning, all was going smoothly as usual but as you drove slowly toward the Nest, looking for a place to park, the strangest thing happened. Just as you were approaching, you noticed the Barnes Bakery van out front was about to drive away. The driver stuck his head out the window briefly and you saw that it was Jimmy, who just gave a small wave and drove away, leaving the spot empty for you. Quickly, you pulled to the curb and parked, but…what was that?

Pausing only briefly, you got out of the car and grabbed the boxes to deliver. A quick conversation with Clint and you were back on the road within 5 minutes. Wow. Amazing how a good parking spot can improve your morning. Thanks to your good fortune, you made it back to the bakery just in time to see Sam pull up in his delivery truck with all your ingredients. It was the start of a pretty good day.

Later that morning, you thought about B. You had kept yourself busy yesterday to avoid thinking about all that had happened and the hole his lack of texts had left in your life but he drifted to the forefront of your mind today. You hadn’t heard from him again, but his last text had left it in your hands. If you wanted to keep interacting, then it was up to you. As you sat down at your desk for the first time that day, a thought occurred to you so you pulled out your phone. You stared at the single letter “B” at the top of the open messages and nervously began to type. Before you could stop yourself you hit send.

_FG: Are you okay? I mean….you’re not dying or anything, right? Cause if I’m mad at you and find out you had some life-threatening disease or something and you’re shielding me from it, that would suck._

Waiting a few seconds, those three dots popped up quickly and your heart caught in your throat. The thought had occurred to you that there might be a specific reason why B hadn’t shown up and your brain went directly to “worse case scenario”. You couldn’t let go of your concern, so you asked, point blank without greeting. His reply arrived.

_B: Yes, I’m fine. No, I’m not dying, nothing like that. I’m sorry that I’ve left you wondering but even the truth wouldn’t make much sense right now. Again, I’m so sorry._

You felt a rush of relief as you read his words, noticing that he was still typing a second message. At least now you knew your worst fear had not come to fruition. That ache in your heart remained, but somehow you still felt that little swell of joyous anticipation as you awaited his response.

_B: It’s really good to hear from you. And the fact that you were still concerned about my well-being is further proof that I probably don’t even deserve to have you as a friend. Regardless, I hope we can still talk._

Biting your lip, you considered how best to reply to that. It seemed like he really did feel terrible about what happened. You needed one more promise from him, though, just for your own sanity.

_FG: You’ll tell me eventually? Everything?_

_B: Yes. In time._

Another deep breath.

_FG: Okay._

You left the conversation there and went back to work. It felt quite like it had in the beginning because you felt that need for caution once again. Might seem like a step backward, but it was a start.

After paperwork and checking in with Wanda, you headed out for some afternoon errands. One stop even took you outside the comfort zone of your usual 5 to 6 blocks, but the benefit of that was you were able to grab a slice from your favorite pizzeria. As you held the paper plate that was quickly soaking up the delicious grease from your gooey cheesy, you smiled and pulled out your phone.

_FG: Best slice in the city. ;)_

You attached a photo with Capizzi’s logo in the background, just as B had a while back. Two bites into your pizza and you heard your phone ping.

_B: Ooooh. Them’s fightin’ words._

You grinned at the response and took another bite. After lunch, you stopped at your accountant’s office to drop off some paperwork before returning to the bakery. You checked in with Wanda and baked a few croissants and pastries, upon her request, as business had been pretty steady all day. While she stocked up the pastry case, you pulled out a recipe for two types of cake and started baking.

Pastries were your specialty and you did have cupcakes on display most days, but full-sized cakes were only for special orders. You wanted to have these cakes baked and cooled so you could finish decorating them tomorrow for pickup the next day. Sifting the flour and greasing the pans, you got into the groove and soon the cakes were in the oven with a timer set. Wanda needed help for a short while, so you spent some time up front.

The cakes turned out perfectly, bouncing back slightly when touched and the toothpick came out clean when you inserted one into the cake’s center. The heavenly smell permeated the entire bakery, even still lingering as you and Wanda closed up for the night. Mopping the floors, you were lost in thought about how you were going to decorate the cakes when Wanda startled you with a sneeze.

“Bless you,” you replied.

She laughed with a sniff. “Thanks. I think that’s the last of it,” Wanda said as you poured out the mop water and turned off the lights.

“Yup. I’ll see you tomorrow,” you grinned, waving as she left for the subway station.

_____________

The following morning, Wanda greeted you less enthusiastically than usual. She looked a little pale, but she assured you all was well as you left for deliveries. You weren’t so sure about that as you closed your trunk and drove away.

Approaching the Nest, once again you were surprised to see Jimmy in the van’s driver’s seat about to leave. Not that you weren’t grateful to have a timely spot in front the cafe, but now it seemed like he was actively avoiding you, which was odd. He offered a wave as his brake lights lit up, but you honked your horn loudly and Jimmy paused, surprised to see you climbing out of your car. The driver behind you honked as well, but you ignored them.

You quickly ran up to the Barnes Bakery van as Jimmy pushed the sunglasses off his nose and up to rest in his tousled locks.

“Y/N, hey,” he greeted, confused.

“Hi,” you replied, breathless. “I, um…I have a bag of flour for you. I mean, for your dad. I was wondering if you could take it back to Brooklyn with you? It’s a bit of a drive…”

Jimmy caught up to your meaning, so he opened his door and hopped out quickly. “Yeah, sure. I’ll grab it.”

Popping your trunk, he lifted the 50 lb bag with no trouble and held it in one arm as he opened the back door of the van to set it inside.

“Thanks,” you said, noticing the honking getting more frantic behind you.

“No problem,” Jimmy replied with a smile. “I’ll see you around.”

You watched him climb into the van and drive away as a honk startled you out of your reverie. Quickly, you climbed back into your own car and parked, carrying out your delivery to Clint.

Returning to the bakery, your morning quickly went downhill. One look at Wanda, and you knew that she wasn’t okay. Her usual bright eyes and rosy cheeks were dull and pale, respectively. She sneezed twice into a nearby napkin before you watched her step into the back of the bakery to loudly blow her nose away from customers and food. Feeling torn but sympathetic, you knew what you had to do.

“Wanda, you’re sick. Go home and rest,” you ordered her softly.

“No! I’ll be okay! You shouldn’t have to do it all and I’m fine—“ her protesting was quickly cut off by a long coughing fit. Not only did she look and sound awful, it was unsafe for her to be around food.

Grabbing Wanda’s things from a hook inside the kitchen, you forced her to untie her apron and nudged her toward the door. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry. Go home and get better.”

The pretty brunette continued to fight you weakly, but eventually she gave in and left. This new development really put a wrench into things. Without Wanda, you were the only person to man the counter and do the baking, not to mention a million other things you had to do for orders and to run the business. The bakery was currently empty now that the morning rush was through, so you turned off the music so you could hear customers enter and also put out small silver bell with a sign so people could ring it if you missed the door chime.

The entire day was a hurricane of helping customers, baking, answering phone calls, and even locking the door with a “Back in 5 minutes” sign so you could use the bathroom and shove some food in your mouth. You tried your best to keep your calm, but it was all just too much. You almost cried when 2 trays of cookies and a tray of croissants burned when you forgot to set a timer. It was the last of those items, so you just had to go without the rest of the day.

Locking the door finally at closing time, you collapsed into a chair with your head in your hands. Most of the time, having only one employee was just fine. Wanda was amazing and could handle it all with a little help from you, but being without her a full day made you realize how much you depended on her. Of course, she asked for time off once in a while, but it was well in advance and you were able to plan your baking and special orders around it. There wasn’t a lot you could do on such short notice, though.

Although retail hours were over, your day was far from ending. Finishing the necessary cleaning up front, you could now finally focus on all the baking you needed to finish. Cookies and croissants you had run out of, cinnamon rolls, and not to mention your special order cakes for tomorrow, it all felt like too much. All you could do was make a list and get to work.

An hour later, your phone pinged and you took a second to open the message. You hadn’t even looked at your phone all day, so it wasn’t a surprise to see several texts from B, all unanswered. Most were silly food photos that made you smile and a meme or two, but the last one caught your attention.

_B: Everything okay? If you’re busy, I completely understand. Just wanted to check in._

Your eyes prickled with exhaustion and you felt a slight scratchiness in your throat. Obviously, you were overworked but there was also a chance you had caught whatever sickness Wanda had. You didn’t have the luxury of going home, though, so you just washed your hands at every opportunity, wore gloves when needed, and kept working.

It wasn’t often that you wished you had a partner of some sort. You were fiercely independent and had no doubts that you could make it on your own, given how well your business was doing. Sometimes, though…you just wished you had someone to help carry the weight. Someone to vent to or have a shoulder to cry on after a hard day. Those days were rare, but today was definitely one of them. Quickly, you sent out a reply.

_FG: No. Not okay. Today has been disastrous and it’s far from over. I’m sorry, can’t talk now._

Hitting send, you walked over to plug in your charger. There was no need for you to have your phone nearby, anyway. A message arrived just before you stepped away.

_B: I wish there was something I could do to help._

_Me too_ , you thought, leaving the message unopened on your lock screen. There was nothing he could do, though. Tonight, you were an island. Putting on some music, you rolled your neck and shoulders and got to work.

Some time later, you heard a rhythmic pounding that you almost missed over the loud music. You ignored it the first few times, but after the third, you finally brushed your hands on your apron and poked your head around the corner to see a surprisingly familiar face through the glass door.

Stepping forward, you reached for the lock and then hesitated. This was crazy. What was he doing? Finally, you flipped the lock and opened the door just a crack.

“What are you doing here, Jimmy?” you shouted over the loud roar of thunder overhead. You didn’t even know it was raining until just now.

“I saw the light on as I walked past and just wanted to make sure everything was okay,” Jimmy replied, holding his jacket over his head. It was doing little to shelter him from the downpour. “Could I come in for a minute?”

You eyed him carefully and then swung the door wide to allow him entrance before locking the door again. Jimmy shrugged off his drenched jacket, draped it on an overturned chair, and ran a hand through his damp, curly locks. How he still looked good after coming in from the rain was a mystery. You always just looked like a drowned rat.

“I’m working, Jimmy. Everything’s fine,” you replied, trying to convince yourself as much as him.

“At 10pm?” he asked in shock. “Why?”

You huffed out a sigh. “If you must know, Wanda came to work sick so I sent her home, I’ve been working like a madwoman all day helping customers and baking, I burned 4 trays of pastries, have two huge orders due tomorrow and it all has to get done. That’s why. So, I don’t really have time for—“

“Do you want some help?”

Choking on your words, you nearly went catatonic at his offer.

“What?” you finally squeaked out.

He talked slower with a genuine smile. “I’m offering my help. I mean, I’m a fair baker and at the very least, an extra set of hands. Plus, you get to boss me around for a while. So, what do you say?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooooohhhhh SNAP!!! How do you like them apples?? Jimmy’s avoiding her and then shows out of the blue to help? Hmmm. Do you think his offer to help is genuine? And how sweet is his dad? Hardly seems like they’re related from behavior alone. ;) Poor sick Wanda! Certainly makes things a lot more difficult. I’ve definitely been there. It sucks. Do you think she’ll accept Jimmy’s help? Would you? That would make things interesting. ;) Another cliffhanger, I know, but this part got extra long! Hope you don’t mind. :D I love you all!! Please let me know your thoughts, I always love your feedback. <3


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky (Jimmy).
> 
> Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)
> 
> Warnings: none! Mild swearing?
> 
> Word Count: 3.8k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm. What do you think? Can she trust him in her kitchen?? I guess we’ll find out right now!! :D And I won’t apologize for inevitably making hungry OR for my love of The Beatles. That’s just how it is. ;) I love you guys! Hope you enjoy this part! Any and all feedback is appreciated!! <3

_Previously:_

_“Do you want some help?”_

_Choking on your words, you nearly went catatonic at his offer._

_“What?” you finally squeaked out._

_He talked slower with a genuine smile. “I’m offering my help. I mean, I’m a fair baker and at the very least, an extra set of hands. Plus, you get to boss me around for a while. So, what do you say?”_

_______________

A bubble of laughter traveled up your throat and then burst past your lips upon hearing the absurdity of his words. **  
**

“You can’t be serious,” you giggled, trying to control yourself. It might have been the sleep deprivation and exhaustion but somehow hearing Jimmy offer his help to you was the funniest thing you’d ever heard.

Jimmy, the heir apparent of your competitor. Jimmy, who had been a constant thorn in your side since you met. Jimmy, who claimed you were doomed to fail within the first year. Unbelievable. Clearly, it was all a joke.

“Y/N, I am completely serious,” he said with a furrowed brow. “I have no doubt that you could do it all on your own, but you shouldn’t have to,” Jimmy spoke sternly now.

Swallowing your laughter, you took a deep breath and really looked at the man before you now. There was no hint of joking in his features. He really meant what he said. Jimmy was here late at night, just to…help you?

“Why?” you demanded. “Why would you help me? I thought you were determined to run me out of business, wouldn’t my failure tonight be part of your plan?”

Jimmy shifted on his feet and slipped both hands in his jeans pockets. “No. I never wanted that. Look, I’m sorry about my past behavior, but I’m here now and I’m willing to help if you’ll let me,” he offered sincerely, once again.

“Really? You’re sure you want to spend your night in this mess?” you doubtfully asked while walking back toward the kitchen with Jimmy following in tow.

“I’m sure it’s not that—whoa.” Jimmy began to protest but then stopped short with eyes wide to see the state of your kitchen.

The past few hours had been a flurry of butter and flour and sugar, now with multiple recipes only partially finished. You had tried to maximize your time by using multiple mixers and weighing all the flour for each recipe, but in reality it had just split your attention. Now there was a mess on every surface and you felt like the small kitchen looked like the inside of your scattered brain.

Currently, you had cinnamon roll dough rising, so while you waited, you creamed some butter and sugar for cookies and also had just pulled croissant dough from the fridge to roll out with butter softening on the counter for tart dough. The idea of having a second pair of hands was appealing, but you didn’t like having anyone in your kitchen, much less someone you didn’t trust.

Jimmy surveyed the kitchen for a moment and then took deep breath. “Okay. How can I help? Do you have a spare apron?” he asked you, expectantly.

Eyeing him carefully, you crossed both arms over your chest, most likely getting flour on your shirt. It was futile trying to stay clean at this point.

“You honestly want to help me, Jimmy? Really?” you questioned his motives once again.

Jimmy huffed out a sigh and then leveled you with a steady gaze. “Y/N, yes, I want to help you. I have never been more sure in my life,” he spoke in an overtly confident tone.

Biting your lip, you looked around at your multiple projects and then back at Jimmy. “If you sabotage me in any way or steal my recipes or anything like that, I swear I will—“

“Whoa! I would never—“

He broke off at the look of worry in your eyes, so he tried a different approach. Placing his left hand on your KitchenAid standing mixer on the table, Jimmy then raised his right hand up by his head.

Directly meeting your gaze, he spoke. “I, James Buchanan Barnes, promise to never sabotage anything in regards to your business. I will never steal any recipe, reveal any sort of technique, or any other secrets that are revealed this night. I promise all of the above as a member of the baking community and on my life as a rehabilitating asshole, so help me God,” he finished his oath and then let out a grin.

After that bit of ridiculousness, you had a difficult time holding back a smile of your own. He was officially crazy, but finally you relented. “Okay, fine. There’s an apron hanging behind you.”

Jimmy let out a holler of victory before grabbing the apron and tying it around his waist with that wide grin still on his stupid, handsome face. “Alright, so what can I do, boss?”

You smiled and shook your head at that. “Don’t call me that. Even Wanda rarely does. Um…okay, so that mixer has the butter, sugar, eggs, and vanilla mixing for cookies. The dry ingredients are next to it, so if you could add that to the bowl, mix, and then scrape really well with that rubber spatula, I’ll get you the chocolate chunks and pistachios.”

The brunet raised his eyebrows at the mention of those last ingredients, but he said nothing and merely followed your instructions. While he mixed that, you rolled out the croissant dough, folded it in thirds and wrapped it up before putting it back in the fridge. Your cinnamon roll dough was ready then, so you tossed some flour on the table and dumped out your yeasty dough with a cathartic punch to release the air bubbles.

Once Jimmy had the cookie dough ready, you paused a short minute to show him the correct size scoop and how closely you wanted to cookies to be on the pan. Otherwise, he focused on his own task and left you to your work. After spreading the cinnamon mixture and sprinkling the pecans, you began to roll the dough into a spiral as Jimmy watched, seemingly transfixed.

“That looks and smells amazing,” he said, breaking the silence.

“One of my top sellers,” you replied proudly, “and a personal favorite of mine, too.”

“I bet,” he said, practically salivating.

You felt a swell of accomplishment in your chest as you grabbed a serrated knife to cut each roll to size. “So,” you began slowly, making an attempt at conversation. “I kind of figured that Jimmy was short for James, but Buchanan? Are your parents really big fans of the 15th US President?” you teased.

Jimmy let out a burst of laughter. “Something like that. Actually…only my dad calls me Jimmy,” he confessed.

Your brow furrowed, confused. “Clint does, too, I thought…”

“Yeah, I know. My dad set it up so I’d be the one picking up the paperwork and then later delivering to the Nest that first day. It’s been my dad’s nickname for me since I was little so he introduced me to Clint as Jimmy over the phone and I just went along with it. I don’t mind, but I really prefer Bucky,” he finished with a smile.

Pausing in your actions a moment, you took that information in. “Bucky, huh?” Interesting.

“Short for Buchanan…”

“Yeah, I got that,” you rolled your eyes with a grin. “Okay, then. So, tell me, Bucky: do you like the Beatles?”

Bucky’s eyes grew wide with alarm alarm, to your surprise. “What? I mean…yeah. I like some of their songs,” he mumbled, looking down at the dough before him.

“Great! Because they’ve kind of become my preferred music when I just need to get in the zone and get things done, you know?” you told him as you selected a particular album on your outdated iPod touch, then connecting it to the nearby speakers.

You had specific, appropriate playlists for the public when the shop was open, but you liked to use Spotify through your iPod when working by yourself. It also helped save your phone’s battery so you didn’t mind using the older device. You needed something to wake you up this late at night and singing along with the Fab Four was just the ticket.  

Pressing a button, the album “1” began to play. It was a compilation of The Beatles’ number one hits, so it contained most of their popular, well-known songs. It didn’t have all your favorites, but quite a few. The album was on shuffle, just to keep you on your toes, so when “Ticket to Ride” began to play, you bobbed your head to the beat. Turning back toward the wooden work table, you started to clean up from cinnamon rolls so you could switch gears and start decorating.

Just as you were pulling out your cakes to decorate, Jim–no, Bucky—announced he was finished with scooping the cookies. Wow. He was fast, which shouldn’t have shocked you. Taking a leap of faith, you handed him the recipe for tart dough and pointed out where he could find the ingredients. With only a question or two, he was on his way and you were able to focus on your cakes.

Not long after, Bucky simply asked what to do with the tart dough, so you pointed out the small tart shell pans and asked him to spray them with pan release and press a certain amount of dough into each one. You liked to bake a dozen or so to have on hand so you could fill them with any type of filling when needed. Returning to your cakes, you had just finished building the 8” chocolate with three layers of cake and fresh raspberry filling in the middle. You spread the freshly-made chocolate buttercream over the top and sides with a spatula and then spun the cake stand swiftly to smooth out the sides with a flat edge.

Lost in your own little world, you began to softly sing along with the current song playing.

“ _…[we can work it out](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DIgRrWPdzkao&t=NmRiNTkyZDU2MmZjMTE2ZGI4OTcwZTFhZWUyZDA5NzI1NjAwYzRiMCxiRU5yUVNpcg%3D%3D&b=t%3AAPTZsA8IqrK1ibe3l-X-1Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Favengerofyourheart.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177208635884%2Fflour-girl-11-bucky-x-reader-au&m=1)_

_we can work it out_

_Life is very short, and there’s no time_

_For fussing and fighting, my friend_

_I have always thought that it’s a crime_

_So I will ask you once again_

_Try to see it my way…”_

Stepping over to the microwave, you slid in a small glass bowl of ganache and hit the button for 30 seconds. You danced in place a little, mostly to stretch your muscles and kill time until the microwave dinged. Pulling out the ganache, you stirred it with your spatula and turned back to the table, feeling eyes on you.

Bucky had apparently seen your little show and shared a smile.

“What?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

He looked away with a shrug. “Nothing. What’s that you warmed up?”

“Dark chocolate Ganache. They wanted a ‘Death by Chocolate’ vibe, so that’s what they’re gonna get,” you replied while tilting the bowl of liquid-y chocolate over the cake.

Setting the bowl aside, you grabbed your spatula and slowly caused the cake stand to spin while gently pushing the pool of ganache to the edge of the cake, allowing small rivulets to drizzle down the sides of the cake. It was a simple technique, but never failed to impress. You finished the cake with a star-tip border around the bottom and then once the ganache dried, you added the red buttercream roses as well as piping the words “Happy Birthday” on top.

Stepping back to survey your work, you glanced over at Bucky who was openly staring with his mouth gaping slightly.

Giving the cake a slow spin, you asked his opinion. “How does it look?”

“It’s, uh…wow. You made that look so easy. It looks amazing,” he finally replied.

Beaming slightly, you shrugged. “Practice. How are those tart shells looking?”

Bucky glanced down at the dough in his hand. “I’m on the last one. Do you want them baked next?”

“Yes, for 13 minutes,” you instructed. “And then are you up for filling croissants?”

“Always,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

You let out a small chuckle. “Okay. I have some triangles already cut and I’ll show you how to fill them.”

Soon, tart shells were in the oven, Bucky had his instructions with the croissants, both sweet and savory, and you focused on the second cake. This was a 6” with 2 layers of lemon cake with a fresh lemon curd filling and Swiss buttercream rosettes on the outside. As you were placing the second layer of cake on top of the filling, Bucky spoke up.

“So, why the Beatles? Not criticism, just curious,” he quickly added the second part, probably to avoid any wrath from you. He must have picked up on your love for the Boys from Liverpool.

“Um…I grew up listening to them, I guess. My mom liked to play their old vinyl records when I was little, especially in the kitchen while she cooked and baked. I liked to help out, so I have that strong memory attached to their songs. She passed away when I was in high school and it made me sad to hear them for a while, but then I decided to carry on the tradition and play them here. Kind of feels like my mom is still around when I bake,” you finished, not realizing how personal that was to share. Nervously, you glanced his way, but Bucky had a soft, sympathetic expression upon his face, which caught you off guard.

He finally broke the silence. “That’s a good memory to have,” he spoke gently, then offering his condolences. “I’m sorry.”

You just smiled sadly. “Thank you.”

Another quiet moment before Bucky shifted the subject slightly. “This is probably a hard question to answer, but…what’s your favorite Beatles song?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow.

Laughing, you turned toward the music and pressed a button on your iPod. “Actually, it’s not a difficult question, but the answer might not be what you expected…” you trailed off as stringed instruments began to play.

_“Ah, look at all the lonely people. Ah, look at all the lonely people_

_[Eleanor Rigby](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D6gluNoLVKiQ&t=MjcyMjFhMTJkNmRjYjIyNTZlMGJiMDBkZmQ0NjIxZWU2ODM4MzU0ZSxiRU5yUVNpcg%3D%3D&b=t%3AAPTZsA8IqrK1ibe3l-X-1Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Favengerofyourheart.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177208635884%2Fflour-girl-11-bucky-x-reader-au&m=1) picks up the rice in a church where a wedding has been,_

_Lives in a dream, Waits at the window_

_wearing a face that she keeps in a jar by the door_

_Who is it for?_

_All the lonely people, where do they all come from?_

_All the lonely people, where do they all belong?”_

Bucky spoke up during the second verse. “Whoa. Yeah, that’s…not what I was expecting. Most would say ‘Hey, Jude’ or ‘Help!’. That one’s kinda depressing. Can I ask why it’s your favorite?” he asked respectfully.

You giggled lightly. “I know it’s unusual. I love the orchestrations, first of all. The stringed instruments just convey so much emotion on their own, you know? And the lyrics…wow. Yeah, they can seem depressing, but that’s kind of the point. Eleanor Rigby seems to spend her time alone and that comment about ‘ _wearing a face that she keeps in a jar by the door_ ’? Definitely strange, but I always imagined it’s like the masks we tend to put up when we step outside the comfort of our home, you know? We all hide parts of ourselves around people,” you kept talking, your eyes trained on the cake in front of you.

One side of the cake was giving you a little trouble with cake visible through the buttercream, to your annoyance. Bucky was silent, so you just scooped more buttercream on your spatula and continued on.

“As for Father Mackenzie, he was there the whole time, probably even in the same church. Two lonely people who could have connected and felt a little less lonely. Where do they come from? Where do they belong? How do you cure loneliness? By connecting with others. They were like ships passing in the night, neither reaching out when they could have. Eleanor didn’t have any family, hence the phrase ‘ _buried along with her name, nobody came_ ’. Only Father Mackenzie was at her funeral and by then it was too late,” you said with a sad shake of your head. “I don’t know. It’s a somber song, but it helps remind me to reach out to others and make those connections. Is that weird?” you asked, finally looking up.

Bucky was staring again with a smile, his hand paused on a croissant mid-roll. He blinked, realizing you had asked a question. “Um…yeah, I guess it’s a little weird, but it also makes sense. I can honestly say I’ve never put that much thought into a song, but…I like it. Human connection, yeah,” he answered, almost in awe. Or possibly in a daze from your long-winded explanation.

“Anyway,” you shook off that heavy subject, “do you have a favorite Beatles song?”

He looked off into the distance for a moment and then seemed to come up with an answer. Brushing his hands on his apron, he walked over to where your iPod was. “May I?”

“Sure.”

Putting his back to you, Bucky spent a few seconds scrolling on the iPod before stepping away. “Might not be what you’d expect either…” Bucky teased as he washed his hands.

A few notes played before a voice began to sing, but to your surprise it was female. Looking his way in confusion, you listened on a moment before you recognized the song and also where it came from.

_“Yeah, I’ll tell you something_

_I think you’ll understand._

_When I say that something_

_I wanna hold your hand…”_

“This is from [the movie ‘Across the Universe’](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DF7WXRNQT9ko&t=ZTIzZTk1ZTI3ODYwYzhhYWJhNmJiYWVmY2Q1OGE1YzNkZjA2M2E5OSxiRU5yUVNpcg%3D%3D&b=t%3AAPTZsA8IqrK1ibe3l-X-1Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Favengerofyourheart.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177208635884%2Fflour-girl-11-bucky-x-reader-au&m=1), right?” you asked, already knowing the answer.

Bucky smiled. “Yeah. I like the original, but this cover always hit me harder. I like that it’s slower, like a ballad, and the emotion the actress puts into every word…I don’t know. I like it,” he offered with a shrug.

“Me, too,” you replied with a similar smile. “It’s great movie. I think the actors sang live, which is pretty cool.”

“They did, yeah,” Bucky echoed before you both fell into a comfortable silence as the song played on.

As the song ended, you waited to see what would pop up next as you put the finishing touches on your lemon cake. A male voice began to sing quietly, a cappella at first.

_“[Something](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DwjIdpxwm2zc&t=YTlmOGM1YTNmNWExMDUzYTk2MzkxNGZkMjE4NDQzM2JlMjNkMDhhOSxiRU5yUVNpcg%3D%3D&b=t%3AAPTZsA8IqrK1ibe3l-X-1Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Favengerofyourheart.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177208635884%2Fflour-girl-11-bucky-x-reader-au&m=1) in the way she moves attracts me like no other lover_

_Something in the way she woos me_

_I don’t wanna leave her now, You know I believe and how_

_You’re asking me, will my love grow?_

_I don’t know, I don’t know…”_

“I like this one, too,” Bucky softly interrupted.

You smiled. “Same here.”

The rest of the movie’s soundtrack played on with occasional comments from both of you. Remarks about how the Beatles must have been on drugs while writing at least a few of the songs. “I Am the Walrus”, for sure. “Across the Universe” was a good contender, but you both enjoyed it anyway. “For the Benefit of Mr. Kite” was definitely an acid trip. There were so many good, solid songs, though and your mind reflected on those scenes from the movie with fondness as they played.  

Time passed by swiftly without you realizing, but finally, you were finishing an order of cupcakes while Bucky filled the last few croissants and you were done. Or as prepared as you felt you could be for the next day. After putting everything away, you took a deep breath and felt more on top of your to-do list, partly in thanks to the man who unexpectedly came to your aid. You both shared in the cleaning and Bucky even helped with the mound of dirty dishes, leaving them out to air dry.

All in all, the night turned out to be not so bad. In fact, if you didn’t know any better, you might have even enjoyed your time with Bucky. Quickly, you pushed that thought to the back of your mind. It was a little after 1am as you stepped out into the late night air with Bucky beside you. The rain had stopped by then, leaving behind that fresh, earthy scent you loved. Locking the door, you turned slowly toward Bucky, feeling a hint of awkwardness.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you finally met his eye, “for your help. You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he replied, glancing down at the rain-soaked pavement. “It was actually kinda fun. Thanks for letting me help out. I know you prefer to do it all on your own, but it never hurts to ‘ _get by[with a little help from [your] friends](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DfHjKxXMB4dE&t=ODljMzQ2MGI2MTE3ZTY2OWM5ZjliMTZiZTBiODdlNzI4NjdjMTI4YyxiRU5yUVNpcg%3D%3D&b=t%3AAPTZsA8IqrK1ibe3l-X-1Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Favengerofyourheart.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177208635884%2Fflour-girl-11-bucky-x-reader-au&m=1)_ ’,” he said with a wink, quoting the Beatles.

An unexpected burst of laughter escaped you and he joined in.

Bucky spoke as the laughter subsided. “So…can I walk you home? Or the subway? Not the worst neighborhood, but still…”

Chuckling under your breath at that offer, you cleared your throat and nodded. “Sure. Follow me,” you answered, walking the ten feet to the bottom of the stairs and then climbing to the top. Reaching the door and standing on the highest step, you turned around to see a bewildered Bucky. “This is me. Right there,” you pointed to the window your apartment that was directly above the bakery.

Bucky laughed. “Well, that’s convenient. Um…okay. Have a good night, Y/N,” he said in parting before descending a few steps.

“Bucky?” you called out and he stopped to turn your way. “Why did you help me tonight? Be honest with me.”

Placing one hand on the stone railing, Bucky seemed to take a moment to consider his answer. “Because…I heard you the other day. You’re right, I had no idea what your life is like and I probably still don’t, but after tonight I feel like I have the smallest of ideas and…you’re like a superhero. Owning your successful business with only one employee and all of your pastries are amazing, plus those cakes are a work of art. You seriously do it all, mostly on your own and I admire that,” he replied earnestly, then asking a surprising question. “Do you really unclog toilets?”

Feeling embarrassment creep into your face from the question as well as the unexpected praise, you nodded. “Yup. I’m the superintendent of the building. The landlord gives me a discount on rent for the bakery in exchange for dealing with clogged toilets, among other things,” you shrugged, playing with the keys in your hand.

“Wow. Like I said…superhero. Anyway, I wanted to apologize again for being such an ass. I hope you can get at least get a few hours of sleep now,” Bucky said as he climbed down the last few steps. “See you around, Y/N.”

Bucky offered a wave and you watched him walk down the street for a moment, trying to reconcile the actions of this man who helped you for hours without asking for anything with the cocky jerk you met only a few weeks ago. Unlocking the door, you let yourself into your apartment and shut it behind you, heading immediately for the bedroom in an exhausted, confused haze.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooooooooly crap, you guys!!! I’ve had this whole chapter in my head for MONTHS and now I get to share it, finally!!! What did you think?? Maybe Bucky at least got his foot in the door with winning her over? Hmm. Would you forgive him seeing such a huge shift in his behavior? I’d love to know what you think of this part and what might happen next! ;) I adore you all and appreciate all of your comments and feedback. More coming Thursday!


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky.
> 
> Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)
> 
> Warnings: none! Mild swearing?
> 
> Word Count: 2.2k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all ready for some FLUFF!?????!? I’m excited. :D Finally Bucky is Bucky and now he can be the perfect cinnamon roll we all know he can be. *swoon* I’d love to know your thoughts on this part, any and all feedback is appreciated! I love you guys. <3

Repetitive buzzing rudely breached your cozy cocoon of sleep, causing you to stir. Each movement made your muscles ache and head pound. The buzzing was relentless, though, so you finally sat up in bed with a sniffle and threw your legs over the side to stand. Shuffling toward the sound, you were within reaching distance when it went silent. Of course it did. **  
**

Exhausted from even walking that short distance, you leaned against the door a moment and closed your eyes to stop your head from spinning when a loud knock from the other side startled you, making you jump.

“Who is it?” you called out in a hoarse, nasally voice as you peered through the peephole.

“It’s Bucky, open up,” a male voice spoke through the door.

Squinting at the distorted image, it was indeed the tall brunet with a mop of perfect hair whom had been your nemesis…until recently? In your ill state, you were almost positive last night had been a fever dream and Jimmy—or Bucky—had never showed up to help you with your baking. The idea still seemed absurd. Realizing you hadn’t responded yet, you cleared your throat, or attempted to, followed by a cough.

“Um…what do you want?” you croaked warily.

“I heard you were sick so I thought I’d check up on you,” he replied, his words now muddled.

Peering through the peephole again, you saw that he was eating something. Something familiar…

“What’re you…is that one of my cookies?” you nearly cried out, finally turning the lock and opening the door.

“Yeah,” Bucky said with a smile, popping the last piece of cookie in his mouth and then continuing to speak with his mouth full. “You were right, these Dark Chocolate Pistachio are amazing, especially with the sea salt on top? So good!” He nearly sang the last two words as he nudged past you into the apartment, leaving you standing there in the doorway, confused.

“Uh…okay. Thanks?” you replied as you closed the door and stepped toward him. “So you stopped by the bakery?” you asked, reaching for a tissue in your bathrobe pocket and blowing your nose.

Bucky chewed a few times before swallowing. “Yup. I didn’t see you at the Nest this morning and Clint said you’d be late with delivering, so I finished mine and thought I’d see what was up. Wanda told me you’re sick? Does that mean you’re actually taking a day off?” he asked in surprise while taking a look around your small apartment, which was now littered with tissues and dirty dishes. You hardly had the time to clean lately and now you just didn’t have the energy.

“Unfortunately, yes. No one wants to see this…” you gestured to your current state, “around food. I did the morning baking for the pastry case and extra for at least part of the day. Wanda offered to do the deliveries, which was sweet of her. She’s only done it a few times and it takes her a bit longer, but I was able to do the extra baking and open the shop before she shoved me out the door to ‘rest and heal’,” you told him using air quotes before another coughing fit took over. Covering your mouth with your sleeve, Bucky took a few steps back, but tried to make it look like he wasn’t dodging your germs.

“Well, good for you,” he declared with a lopsided grin. “You have some drugs or something? Orange juice, all that?” Bucky asked as he took the liberty to open your fridge without asking, knowing that all he would see the empty shelves.

“Hey! Get out of there! I…okay, so I haven’t been to the grocery store in a while,” you admitted, suddenly embarrassed. “It’s fine, I’ll go tomorrow. And yes, I have some cold medicine. I’m waiting for it to kick in so I can finally sleep,” you answered, gesturing to the off-brand over-the-counter box of soft gels.

Nosy once again, Bucky picked up the box and looked at the back which resulted in a low whistle from him. “You’ll be waiting a while, then. This expired 6 months ago, I doubt it’ll help any,” he said, tossing the box on the counter.

Face flushed and feeling dizzy, you now felt like even more of a failure at life. You just wanted him out so you could rest. “It’s fine, Bucky, they just might not be quite as effective, now will you please go so I can sleep?” you demanded and opened the door for him with a sweeping gesture of your arms.

“What’re you going to eat? Isn’t it feed a cold, starve a fever? Or is it the other way around…” he trailed off, pulling out his phone.

Exasperated, you let out a sigh. “I have some ramen, so please just—

“Are you allergic to anything?”

“What?” That caught you off guard. “No, I…you think this is an allergic reaction? It’s just a cold!” you shouted, followed by a sneeze.

“Okay, geez,” he muttered, still focused on his phone as he walked out the door and into the hallway.

“Hey, you forgot your—“

“I’ll be back,” he grinned, walking outside and letting the door close behind him before you could respond.

Frozen in place, you tried to make sense of the past few minutes of interaction. What the hell was that about? Did he just say he was coming back? For his pastries? His behavior was getting more bizarre by the minute. Head foggy, you knew it wouldn’t make any more sense until you kicked this bug, so you shut the door and shuffled back to bed.

Hearing your phone ding, you searched your mess of blankets and finally found the hidden device to see a text message on the screen.

_B: Hey, there, Franny. :) Did your day improve at all yesterday? I sure hope so._

A smile stretched across your face, despite the headache creeping behind your right eye.

_FG: It did, actually. Got some help from an unexpected source. Sick day today, though. :( How’ve you been?_

_B: I’ve been good. Busy, but in a good way. I’m so  sorry you’re sick! Isn’t that always the way? The stress passes and the body decides to shut down. Hope you’re getting some rest and TLC! Get better soon._

Feeling an ache in your chest, you decided to put your phone away and bury your head in the pillows. Whether the ache was from coughing or the latent heartache from your almost-meeting, you weren’t sure. B still seemed as sweet and kind as ever, which made you all the more curious about why he would stand you up. If he didn’t want to meet you, then why maintain the charade? Head sore from thinking and illness, you closed your eyes and willed yourself to sleep.

Twenty minutes later, the buzzing returned. You rolled over with a groan, annoyed because you had been almost at the edge of sleep. Between a stuffy nose and coughing fits, there was no comfort to be had. Rolling out of bed, you traced your steps to the door and pressed the intercom button.

“What?” you barked.

“Whoa. Hello to you, too,” the familiar voice squawked through the intercom. “I said I’d be back, remember?”

Squeezing your eyes shut, you leaned against the wall and pressed the button again. “Yeah, but you never said why. I’ll toss the pastries out the window for you,” you threatened before stepping away.

“Hey! I want those intact, thank you very much. Buzz me up,” he requested, but your bed was beckoning so you neglected to answer. After a moment of silence, Bucky spoke again in a sing-song voice. “Oh, Y/N…I have some drugs for you….”

Eyes wide, you ran to the intercom. “Shh!!! What if someone heard you? I have to live and work around here, you know. Ugh, fine,” you relented, pressing the release button for the building’s security door. Within 30 seconds, he was knocking on your door and you let him in.

“Could you not mention drugs around my tenants, even if they’re just for a cold? I have a reputation to uphold…what is all this?” you cut yourself short to see the grocery bags in Bucky’s arms.

Bucky had waltzed in and placed the bags on your small kitchen table. “The cure for the common cold,” he replied with a smirk as he unpacked the bags. “Orange juice, non-expired cold medicine, cough syrup, fancy tissues, and soup,” Bucky declared, looking proud of himself.

“Fancy tissues?” you questioned, allowing yourself a small smile at the sweet gesture.

“The kind with the lotion in it? Keeps your nose from getting all red and stuff. Totally worth the money. I hope you like Chicken Noodle, I know it’s a cliche, but it works,” he continued to putter around the kitchen, finding a spoon in a drawer and also grabbing a fork for some reason. Producing a glass from the cupboard, he poured you some orange juice and placed it on the table. “Sit.”

Narrowing your eyes, you stood still in your confusion. “Why are you doing this?”

Heaving a deep sigh, he pulled out the chair for you and gently held you by your shoulders until the back of your knees hit the chair and you sat. “I’m really not the asshole you think I am. At least, not entirely. I do have friends and roommates and a family that seems to tolerate me. I’m sure you don’t believe any of that and I’ve given you plenty of evidence to the contrary, but I really can be a good guy sometimes. Taking 10 minutes out of my day to make sure you don’t die from taking expired meds and that you actually eat something substantial won’t kill me. Now, eat up,” Bucky urged you as he took a seat across from you.

You watched him open the bag of pastries he brought on his first trip and produce a small brown box that he proceeded to open. He stopped his motions then, noticing you still weren’t eating. Bucky set down his own food and stuck a fork in it, then opening the styrofoam container of soup and pushing it toward you. When you still didn’t pick up your spoon, he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in the chair, staring you down. The soup actually did smell kinda good.

Finally giving in, you begrudgingly ate a spoonful of soup as a wide smile appeared on the brunet’s handsome face. The warm broth eased your sore throat as you swallowed and you then realized how hungry you really were. Satisfied, Bucky dug into his own food, lifting a forkful of the very cinnamon roll you had made the night before to his lips.

“If you microwave it for 30 seconds, it’s even better,” you muttered to him between bites.

“Oh yeah? Well, I guess you’d be the expert.”” He accepted your suggestion and walked over to the microwave above the stove. As the device dinged and he returned to the table, you opened the box of medicine and swallowed the recommended number of pills with orange juice. “Mmm. Hell yeah,” he groaned after taking a bite of warm cinnamon roll.

You let out a laugh, to both of your surprise. “Glad you’re enjoying the fruits of my labors,” you teased, drinking the broth straight from the container. Only a few noodles remained. You had apparently been hungrier than you thought.

“Better?”

You nodded while swallowing. “Much. Thank you, Bucky,” you told him genuinely, holding his gaze.

Bucky maintained eye contact a moment longer before he placed his palms on the table and stood. “Well, I’ll leave you to rest. Hope you feel better soon. Oh, and you might want to shower,” he mentioned, then seeing the offended expression on your face. “No! I just mean…you look fine, it just helps to freshen up and put on clean clothes, you know. Get rid of the germs,” he yammered on, holding the box with half a cinnamon roll inside.

Crossing arms over your chest, you offered a nod. “I’ll take it into consideration. At least let me pay for the…”

“Nope!” he quickly interrupted and threw the door open. “You’ll have to catch me first,” Bucky said with a wink and then he was gone.

Once again, you were left staring at the closed door, more confused than ever. What was up with him? Was he really just trying to make up for his past behavior? It still felt a little jarring, but you had to admit that you were grateful for the food and medicine. You hadn’t coughed in a short while and your sinuses had cleared a little bit. Sleep might even be possible, you thought as you put the orange juice in the empty fridge.

Crawling back under the covers, you heard another ding from your phone, pulling it out of your bathrobe pocket.

_B: Being sick sucks, so here’s a picture of a cute dog. Feel better! :)_

Chuckling at the adorable picture and attached message, you remembered to plug in your phone to charge before finally falling into a deep slumber with a smile on your face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo????? How freaking adorable was that?? :D Ugh, I know. Bucky is just the sweetest, but still, I don’t blame her for being suspicious! Do you agree? Oh gosh, I totally wish I had someone come forcibly take care of me when I’m ill. ;) How about those texts, though?? B is still just such a cutie. She still hasn’t connected the dots yet, but who would have thought Jimmy the Jerk could be the one sending such lovely messages?? heh. This part was so fun to write, I love their banter. I’d love to know your thoughts, any and all feedback is appreciated! I adore you all. Thank you.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky, Wanda, Steve.
> 
> Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)
> 
> Warnings: none! Mild swearing?
> 
> Word Count: 2.7k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y’all ready for some more fluff???? :D After sweet Bucky nursed her back to health, we’ll see how she reacts to him. ;) There’s more building of intrigue between them and maybe…interest?? Hmmmm. I hope you’re excited! Please let me know your thoughts, any and all feedback is appreciated! <3

“More of the pistachio cookies and another dozen cinnamon rolls, please!” Wanda called out to you through the open doorway to the cafe. **  
**

“Got it!” you hollered back, dusting flour from your hands and heading to the fridge for the two requested items.

Cookies in the oven and waiting for the cinnamon rolls to rise before baking, you returned to the scones you were mixing previously. By the time you finished them, the cinnamon rolls were ready to be baked so you popped them in the oven and removed the pistachio cookies, allowing them to cool.

After a full day of rest, you actually felt pretty good the next morning. Not 100%, but able to work without grossing people out with a hacking cough or feeling like you were dying. You had to admit, the unexpected visit from Bucky along with medicine and soup definitely helped. Although unsure about his motives, you were still very grateful to him. Maybe he was right. Maybe he wasn’t so bad after all.

Bucky was there as usual when you arrived at the Nest, offering you a smile when you walked through the door. Before you could question it or stop yourself, you felt your lips curve into a smile as well. Your exchange was short, only a ‘hello’ and a few words of gratitude from you. He waved it off as if helping to nurse you back to health wasn’t a big deal. Bucky just said it was no problem and he was off to do the rest of his deliveries. After a brief conversation with Clint and his own mention that he was glad you were back to good health, you headed back to the bakery.

Cleaning off your flour-covered table from the scones, you heard your phone chime.

_B: Good morning. :) Feeling any better today?_

Smiling down at the screen, you pulled up the keyboard to reply.

_FG: Much. :) Thank you for the dog photo, it was a very helpful part in my healing process. Another busy day today?_

The more you texted with the mysterious B, the more you wanted to really know him. Was it still just you who was holding back? Maybe if you were more forthcoming about the specifics of your own life, then he might reciprocate. However, as you imagined the thought, your heart clenched upon remembering the pain of putting yourself out there and having it end with you sitting alone in a cafe, watching the minutes tick by. Shaking off the thought, you heard the oven timer sound and you removed the cinnamon rolls to cool before adding the cream cheese frosting.

Another ding of your phone.

_B: A little more calm today. Hoping for an early day and some time to enjoy the city. What about you? Any catching up to do from yesterday?_

_FG: Some. I have amazing help, though, who was able to hold down the fort. Shouldn’t be a terribly long day. How are you going to enjoy the city?_

Setting down your phone, you went to the back to wash a few dishes and when you returned, there was a reply. B had sent a short video, which made your stomach flip. Pressing play, you heard music and the video showed an area lined with trees and a few benches. You recognized the space immediately as a well-known area of Central Park. It wasn’t very far from you, actually. Musicians and buskers tended to congregate there, so that was where the music was coming from.

B did a slow sweep of the park, showing the nearby musicians, families and couples nearby, a few students hustling past with heavy backpacks, and he ended the video by pointing the camera upward, the sun shining through the canopy of the trees. The scene put a smile on your face. It looked like a beautiful day and you felt a little jealous that you couldn’t experience it for yourself. Maybe later on, if you were able to catch up on work.

_FG: I love that area of the park. Looks like a beautiful day. Enjoy it for me. :)_

_B: Will do. :)_

You felt another pang of jealousy and also, possibly…longing? Thinking back, you remembered when B told you he wished he could experience a day with you. You wanted the same, but he made no such request this time. Had he lost that desire, for whatever reason? Or was he holding back as well? That was way too much overthinking for a day where you had too much to do, so you set aside your phone and pulled out a container of cream cheese frosting you had mixed earlier.

The bell above the bakery door jangled then and jovial, booming male voices rang out through the space. You could tell by their tone of voice that they were excited, perhaps visiting the bakery for the first time. It always gave you a thrill when customers’ eyes lit up and they were momentarily overwhelmed by all the delicious choices.

Having frosted the last cinnamon roll, you sprinkled pecans on top and decided to take the tray up front yourself to see what all the excitement was about. As you rounded the corner, you were met with the back of an impossibly tall, muscular, blond man who seemed to be laughing at something his hidden companion said. Stepping closer, you decided to announce yourself.

“Fresh cinnamon rolls,” you declared with a smile as you stepped up beside Wanda behind the counter. The blond turned toward you, revealing the owner of the other male voice to be…Bucky.

Momentarily stunned, you saw that bright, handsome smile of his appear. “Y/N, hey. Oh, um…this is my best friend and roommate, Steve. Steve, this is Y/N the owner of this charming bakery,” he indicated between the blond man, Steve, and yourself.

“It’s nice to meet you, Steve,” you finally replied, shaking out of your stupor.

“It’s lovely to meet you as well,” Steve beamed at you, then taking a quick glance at Bucky, who just gave his friend a shove. “This place is incredible. Everything looks so good, but I think _that_ …is what I am looking for,” he said, practically drooling at the tray of cinnamon rolls still in your hand.

“Oh really?”

Bucky spoke up then. “Yeah, I um…I made the mistake of sharing a bite of my cinnamon roll from yesterday and he hasn’t stopped bugging me about where he could get one of his own, so…here we are,” he explained with a shrug and a smile.

The two men then returned their focus to the pastry case of goodies with Bucky pointing out the items he had already tried and spoke highly of. You had just opened your side of the pastry case and grabbed a set of tongs when Wanda gained your attention.

“Would you mind if I take my lunch break, Y/N?” the lovely brunette asked.

“Of course, I don’t mind. I have things handled. Thanks, Wanda. Have a good break,” you told her with a smile.

Wanda pulled off her apron and hung it on a hook just inside the kitchen as she grabbed her coat. A moment later, she was out the door. Filling the space where the cinnamon rolls should be, you also tidied up the rest of the case as the two men decided on what items to get.

In the end, Steve bought two cinnamon rolls, three different cookies, a croissant, and a cup of coffee. Bucky got another cinnamon roll for himself and also one of the new scones. You didn’t know where they were putting it all with their trim waists, but you were grateful for the business and their high metabolisms.

The only other customer at the time was a young student on his laptop, his croissant devoured long ago. His cup of coffee was low, so you offered to fill it and he accepted, but other than that he kept to himself. Steve and Bucky had settled at a table near the counter as they enjoyed their treats. They made small comments and asked questions in-between bites that were followed by appreciative groans. Meanwhile, you stocked up the sweeteners and brewed a fresh pot of coffee, only ducking into the kitchen to put another tray of cookies and scones in the oven.

Wanda returned shortly after and a few customers trickled in behind her, signaling the beginning of the lunch rush. Steve and Bucky stood then, offering their table to someone who was waiting before they waved goodbye and stepped outside. Your eyes followed them as a customer in front of you tried to decide what to purchase.

Bucky took a few steps down the sidewalk before Steve caught his arm and the man paused. Steve said something, hooking a thumb back toward the bakery and it seemed to upset Bucky, since he shook his head curtly as he replied. Steve apparently wasn’t letting it go, though, so he pushed a little further and Bucky just took a few steps backward with a shrug. He glanced back into the bakery before the windows ended, barely meeting your eye as you looked away. You felt a little embarrassed, having been caught watching him, so you returned your focus to the indecisive customer at the counter. Moments later when you looked up, the two men were gone.

__________________

The next few days passed by uneventfully. The bakery continued to have steady business, which kept you busy, but enough for you to handle. Deliveries to other cafes stayed consistent and surprisingly, you also received an email from a coffee shop owner who wanted to buy your pastries. The owner of Stark Coffee, Tony, contacted you personally, saying that he had heard good things about your shop. He and his wife, Pepper, were coffee aficionados, importing beans from exotic locations around the world. You were honored that they wanted to carry your baked goods, so you sent some samples and the paperwork would hopefully be finalized soon.

Having finally recovered from your unfortunate cold, you ventured out in the afternoon for groceries and a few items for the bakery. Arriving at the corner market, you grabbed your usual two baskets to separate your purchases. You wandered down the aisles and carefully selected your items, but soon discovered that the basket for your personal groceries was alarmingly full. That’s what you get for going so long without shopping.

Turning the corner, your grip on the basket slipped slightly and a bag of chips fell to the floor. The jar of salsa teetered precariously on the edge before it also tumbled over. As if in slow motion, you watched it fall, knowing you were unable to catch it but just before it struck the ground, a hand reached out and grabbed it. Amazed, you glanced up at your apparent savior to see a pair of stormy-grey eyes and tousled brown locks of hair.

“Whew, that could have been messy,” the man pulled a face, followed by a smile as he picked up the chips as well.

“Um…thank you, Bucky. Yeah, that wouldn’t have been a pretty sight,” you nervously chuckled. “Sorry, I guess I should have grabbed a cart. Thought I’d stock up that empty fridge.”

Bucky let out a low whistle. “Well, if you still hadn’t gone shopping since I last saw it, then I’d say it’s much needed. Can’t you redistribute your baskets a little? That one looks pretty empty,” he said, indicating to the one in your other hand.

“Oh, uh…no, actually that one is for the bakery. I keep them separate for accounting purposes,” you said sheepishly.

“Ah, I see,” he replied. “That’s smart. Can I…carry something?”

“No, that’s okay, I—“

But even before you could protest, Bucky had relieved you of the heavy basket and held it along with his own, which contained only a few items.

“Can I put these in my basket? I swear I’ll remember they’re not mine, don’t worry,” Bucky said with a wink as he put the chips and salsa in his own basket. “Anything else you need to grab?”

Dumbfounded, you blinked a few times before answering. “Um…I don’t want to put you out, it’s fine,” you replied, reaching for your basket in his grasp.

“Y/N. I have nothing else to do, just let me carry the basket, okay?” Bucky teased, near laughing as you saw the humor in the moment and allowed yourself to smile as well.

Taking a deep breath, you relaxed. “Okay.”

The next twenty minutes, you and Bucky wandered the aisles as you finished your shopping, occasionally adding items to his basket. Bucky asked how you were feeling and how things were going at the bakery and you asked the same about his work and roommates. It was just small talk, but it was oddly comforting and enjoyable. Soon, you both headed for the cashier to pay for your purchases and Bucky carefully separated your items from his basket.

The young man bagging the groceries filled your reusable canvas bags and you had the sudden realization of how heavy they would be on the walk home. Almost anticipating this, Bucky had finished paying before you with his few items and just as you received your two receipts, he had two of your bags in hand.

“Come on,” he beckoned with a smile, tilting his head toward the door.

You had no choice but to follow, slinging the last two bags over your shoulders. Easy conversation continued as you found yourself laughing and smiling without a worry. You started to notice the endearing wrinkles around Bucky’s eyes when he smiled and how musical his laugh was. He casually asked if you had any weekend plans and you mentioned your desire to visit the Autumn Farmer’s Market near the park on Sunday Morning.

“Really? That sounds amazing. Are you not open on Sundays?” Bucky asked as the bakery came into view.

“I am, but Sunday mornings are often slow and it’s just me working, so sometimes I’ll open a little later, around 11,” you replied, shifting the grocery bags that were beginning to dig into your shoulders, “which is perfect when the farmer’s market is open.”

“Very cool. I hadn’t heard that there was one nearby,” he said as you reached the stairs up to your building and Bucky followed you up. “Would you mind some company?”

You stopped short then, mostly because you had reached the door and also you were in shock at his offer. Slowly turning around as you searched for your keys, you studied Bucky’s expression, trying to decide if he was serious. Oddly enough, you didn’t mind the idea of spending more time with him. How quickly things can change.

“You really want to?” you questioned, still somewhat prepared for it to be a joke.

However, Bucky just smiled earnestly and nodded. “Yeah, I’d like to check it out. That is, if you don’t mind.”

Slipping your key in the lock, you turned back and let out a reserved grin. “Okay.”

“Great!” he beamed enthusiastically.

Bucky helped you in the door with your bags, where you set them on the kitchen table. Bucky lingered just a moment before speaking again.

“So…I’ll meet you on those benches just inside the park? Around 9:30?” he asked, waiting for confirmation.

“Sure. Sounds like a plan,” you smiled before he headed for the door.

“Okay. See you around, Y/N,” Bucky said in farewell, then lightly jogging down the steps to the sidewalk as you watched.

Leaning against the door jamb with the cool breeze brushing your cheeks, you found yourself grinning widely at the thought of seeing Bucky on Sunday. Maybe even…looking forward to it? As Bucky turned a corner, you felt a strange flop of your heart. Oh no. Could it be? Closing your door, you started to unpack the groceries and put them away.

Was it possible that after such a long dry spell in your love life, you might have the spark of something new and exciting happening? What about B? Could you be drawn to two people at the same time? That could get messy.

Oh, boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeee!!! :D Yup. This is happening. She really thinks there’s two guys she’s interested in!! We know what’s happening, but can’t blame her for being confused! How cute is he at the grocery store? And don’t we all love the wrinkles around Bucky’s eyes. *swoon* The Farmer’s Market with him sounds like a dream and I’m SO excited for it, I hope you are too! Please let me know your thoughts, I adore all your comments and feedback! Love you all. <3


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky.
> 
> Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)
> 
> Warnings: none! Mild swearing?
> 
> Word Count: 3.3k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyooooo. Let’s go to the Farmer’s Market!!! :D Honestly, Central Park in the Autumn is something I’ve actually experienced and I loved it, so even just writing about it and imagining a Farmer’s Market there…. *swoon* :) Add in Bucky, and I would probably die. ha! I hope you’re ready for this! I’m excited to hear your thoughts, any feedback is appreciated! <3

Sunday morning broke with clear skies and unusually high temperatures predicted; the makings of a gorgeous day. Since Thursday when Bucky proposed joining you at the Farmer’s Market, you’d continued to find each encounter you had with him more pleasant than the last. After the grocery store, you, of course, saw him at the Nest each morning, but he also happened to be at the bookstore where you went to browse and unwind Friday evening. **  
**

It turned out that you shared similar tastes in books and even had a lively discussion about who your favorite authors were. You each challenged the other to read something they normally wouldn’t and then planned to report back with thoughts on the books. That night as you tucked into bed with the book, you found yourself excited about the prospect of more time spent together. It all seemed to come out of nowhere, but you couldn’t deny the light flutterings of butterflies in your stomach at the thought of Bucky.

During those few days, you continued to hear from B, you both still maintaining that air of mystery. He was still as sweet as ever, confusing your heart and head along with the added newness of whatever was happening with Bucky. Both were mostly pushed out of your head on Saturday, since it was your busiest day of the week. You spent the early hours baking double what you did during the week so you could spend more time helping Wanda with customers.

That night after work, you were exhausted, so catching up on some TV followed by some reading before bed was all that was in the plans.

Sunday, you woke up surprisingly early, for a day that you actually had the option to sleep in. You made some breakfast and drank your coffee, then changing your outfit three times before you were satisfied. There really wasn’t any need for you to dress up, since Bucky had already seen you in your worst, sickest state, but part of you just wanted to gussy up a little, even more for yourself than for him.

Just before 9am, you decided to head out early and enjoy a leisurely walk to the park to spend time there until Bucky arrived. The weather was perfect as predicted, sun shining with a light breeze, and your sweater was just perfect for warmth. Settling on a bench, you pulled out your phone and replied to a ‘Good morning’ text you had received from B earlier.

_FG: Good morning, Bernard! Happy Sunday. Plans for today? I’m enjoying a leisurely morning out in the sunshine._

_B: I’m happy you’re taking the morning off! You work too hard. I’m enjoying  quiet Sunday morning as well._

He followed that message shortly with a picture of a Belgian waffle with strawberries and whipped cream, probably purchased from a food truck that traveled around to different locations in the city. “ _Mmmm waffles_ ” was his caption and you replied in turn with heart eyes and drooling emojis. Minutes later, he sent a link to a youtube video with the caption “ _Made me think of you.:)_ ”, which caused your heart to skip a beat.

Plugging in your headphones, you slipped a bud in one ear and pressed play. The video was a clip of a stand-up comedian you had heard about, [John Mulaney.](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DpIVZpzvduZ4%26index%3D2%26t%3D0s%26list%3DPLpbEkQHGYNx7oW-hTSBJ1gz76utPfAOhd&t=MTc2YmUzNDAzYThlMDcyM2E0OGQxZTJmMGJlMTI2ODE5YzUyMjAzOCxFWXpPUWVqUw%3D%3D&b=t%3AAPTZsA8IqrK1ibe3l-X-1Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Favengerofyourheart.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177560726481%2Fflour-girl-14-bucky-x-reader-au&m=1) He opened his monologue with a mention of how he ‘zones out’ often, which you had to admit was relatable, but he then shared an anecdote about the Beatles, how none of them had mustaches and then suddenly they all had mustaches. At that point, you were laughing near the point of hysterics. For the sake of strangers nearby, you tried your best to laugh quietly with a hand over your mouth.

Eventually, you began to calm down and the video ended, so you returned to the message and typed out a reply.

_FG: Oh my god, I should not have watched that in public. I think I hurt myself from holding in the laughter._

You hit send with a crying/laughing emoji. Those three dots popped up and you waited for a reply, but when you saw it arrive, your breath caught in your throat.

_B: I’d give anything to hear you laugh._

Frozen in shock, you blinked, noticing the three bouncing dots as he continued to type. What the hell did that mean? He wanted to hear you laugh…as in…what? The anticipation was fraying your nerves so when the message popped up, you read it eagerly.

_B: FG…could we meet? I know what happened last time was awful and I had no intention of hurting you, then or now. I swear to you that if you give me another chance, I will move mountains to be there. I’d like to explain everything and I would prefer to do it in person. What do you say?_

Staring at the open message, you read it over and over again until the words began to blur before your vision. Was he serious? After all this time, suddenly he was making promises again? Part of you wanted to instantly say yes and take the leap, but reason and previous rejection held you back. Why now? What had changed? You had believed him last time when he said he wanted to meet, so you weren’t so quick to trust this time.

Unsure of how long you had been staring at the message, you must have been lost in your thoughts because suddenly a hand was waving in front of your face to gain your attention.

“Y/N?”

Jolting to the present, you followed the hand and looked up to see Bucky standing before you with a mildly concerned smile upon his face. He looked really good, you noticed right away. Dressed casually in well-fitting jeans and boots matched with a t-shirt and button-up plaid, then topped with a leather jacket, you gawked for a moment too long before answering.

“Hi! Sorry, I, uh…sorry,” you apologized profusely while locking your phone, shaking off the message still imprinted behind your eyes. “Just got caught up in something. How are you?”

Bucky laughed lightly as you stood up from the bench. “I’m good, how’ve you been?”

“Not bad,” you replied reflexively. “It’s a gorgeous day to be in the park. Shall we?”

“Absolutely,” he said, gesturing for you to lead the way. “This weather is insane. It almost feels like Spring in October.”

“Right?” you exclaimed, smiling brightly. “I’m not complaining.”

Small talk continued for a few minutes as you walked, then touching on work and how both bakeries were busy and doing well. Bucky then asked about how and why you decided to open City Sweets. You opened up more about baking with your mom before she passed and you feeling at home and closer to her in the kitchen. You went to college for a few semesters, but couldn’t settle on a major that interested you. Always returning to the idea of baking, you ended up taking a culinary course for some professional lessons and then worked wherever you could to gain experience.

The wish of opening your own bakery kept drifting to the forefront of your mind, so after taking a few business classes and coming up with a business plan, you made the leap using the money your mom had gifted you upon her death. It was one of the hardest, most stressful things you had ever done, but also the most rewarding. City Sweets was almost a year old. You were finally starting to make a profit and you hoped that it would continue to grow and blossom in the future.

Realizing how long you had been talking, you shifted the subject to Bucky. “What about you? What made you want to major in business?” you asked as you kept walking, the Farmer’s Market a few hundred yards ahead.

Bucky was silent a moment, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “Um…I don’t know, really. I mean, I grew up helping my dad at the bakery and he always wished he’d had more business experience before he started. Most of the time it was just trial and error for him. So, I kind of just fell into it. I didn’t have a strong desire to major in something, so business seemed as good as any. I think that might be why I was so jealous of you when we first met,” he admitted, catching your eye.

Reeling toward him in shock, your jaw dropped. “What? You were jealous of…me? Why?”

He smiled sheepishly. “Because…you found your passion and you went after it. I think you’re doing an amazing job, too. Even from a business perspective, I mean, you’re in a good location with foot traffic, the bakery is cozy but not too small, you’ve branched out to wholesale deliveries, and from what I can tell, your ingredients quality to food cost ratio seems ideal. All within the first year, that’s impressive,” Bucky beamed at you, his gaze then moving toward the market as you two approached.

You took in his words, nearly speechless a moment from his kindness and positive overview of the bakery. “I, um….thank you. That means a lot to me, Bucky,” you quietly replied, almost overcome with emotion.

He just nodded. “Well deserved. I’m just sorry that I made you doubt that because of my own insecurities. I can’t apologize enough, Y/N,” Bucky said sincerely, pausing just before you reached the displays of fresh vegetables.

Pausing as well, you turned toward him and held his gaze a moment longer than usual. “I forgive you, Bucky,” you told him, knowing in your heart that you meant it.

Hearing the explanation of his previous behavior and seeing how much your interactions together had changed over the past few weeks, you held no more resentment for him. It took too much energy to hold a grudge, anyway.

“Thank you, Y/N,” he replied gently, feeling a spark of something between you as you held his gaze.

The moment passed, though, as he glanced at the first produce stand, breaking eye contact. You finally took a look around as the gentle breeze rustled through the treetops. The sound mixed with music that you previously hadn’t noticed and as it registered, you thought back at the video that B had sent the other day. He hadn’t been far from where you currently stood that day. Lost in your thoughts, Bucky’s voice broke through them.

“Y/N?” he prompted, apparently not for the first time because he had an amused, patient smile on his face. “Are you okay?” Bucky asked, noticing your distracted nature.

“Yeah!” you replied, a little too loudly. “Um…yeah, I’m good. Sorry.”

Shaking your head, you walked to the table of produce and marveled at the colors and freshness.

“Oooh, beets,” you cooed, picking up a bunch of the red root vegetable with green stalks still attached. “I’ve been thinking about using more natural forms of food coloring at the bakery and I’ve heard beets are good for that. What do you think?” you asked in anticipation, glancing Bucky’s way.

He smiled at your enthusiasm. “Yeah, I’ve heard that too. I think it’s a great idea,” Bucky agreed, picking up a head of lettuce.

The morning passed, finding yourself enjoying Bucky’s company as you perused the table of each vendor selling their wares. You felt the happiest you had in a long time, finding a lightness and comfort as you talked and laughed with Bucky. Sometime later, you turned down the street toward the area where crafts were sold when you spotted a familiar food truck. Stopping mid sentence, you wandered forward and confirmed that yes, this was indeed where he had been according to the sign.

B had been here in this very spot, holding a waffle. It had been over an hour since his message, but you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing around at the people, wondering if perhaps he was still there. You had no way of knowing, but still…

“Y/N? Did you hear me?”

“Hm?” you quickly replied, blinking.

“I asked if you wanted a waffle. Where did you go just then?” he asked with more concern this time. “What’s going on with you? If you want to cut the morning short, that’s okay, but—“

“No!” you nearly shouted, then feeling terrible about your behavior. You didn’t want to say goodbye, but your attention seemed to be split despite efforts to remain in the moment. “I mean… it’s not that. It’s not you, I’m so—“

“Don’t apologize again,” Bucky kindly interrupted. “You don’t have to, it’s just…you can talk to me if you want to,” he offered sweetly.

You felt your resolve crumbling, wondering if Bucky would mind if you mentioned another guy or if he would just find it odd for you to be corresponding with a stranger. Biting your lip, you rolled it around in your head and came to the conclusion that you might as well get a second opinion on this mess. If he wasn’t as understanding as you expected, then at least you would know his character a little better. Taking a few steps, you settled in a chair at a small table outside the Belgian waffle food truck and gestured for Bucky to do the same.

Taking a deep breath, you began. “It’s kind of a long, weird story…”

_________

You sat in silence a moment, allowing Bucky to process what you had just finished sharing. It sounded crazy, even to your own ears, but Bucky had become a friend somehow over the past few weeks and it seemed like he truly wanted to know what was on your mind. Fiddling with the bag of vegetables resting on the table, you waited until he was ready to respond.

“Wow,” Bucky finally spoke, his gaze off in the distance. “That’s quite a unique way to meet someone.”

You scoffed at that with a shrug. No point in denying it.

“So…you like this guy? Even though you don’t know anything about him?” he asked gingerly, brow furrowed.

Letting out a sigh, you thought about it for the hundredth time and came up with the same answer. “Yeah. I think I do. Is that crazy?”

He shrugged this time. “I don’t know. Crazier things have happened. I can’t think of any at the moment, but…”

You chuckled at that and gave him a playful shove.

“Sorry, sorry,” he replied with a laugh. “But you’re willing to give him another chance, even after he stood you up? No wonder you blew up at me that day at the Nest, by the way. I’m sure I just made a bad situation worse.”

Feeling a warmth in your face, you spoke up. “I really shouldn’t have, I—“

“No, no,” he gently interrupted. “No need to apologize, I needed that wakeup call.”

Smiling gratefully, you thought about his previous question. “I know it might seem naive of me, but…I don’t know. I guess I just want to find out for sure if he is who I imagine him to be. If somehow I’m disappointed once again, then at least I’m not left wondering. I just don’t want to go through life with regrets, you know?”

Bucky was silent again, the corners of his mouth curving upward. “Yeah. That’s a good point. I don’t think it’s naive of you to think the best in other people. It’s a great quality, actually,” he complimented as he placed a hand on top of yours resting on the table.

You felt that electricity again, meeting his gaze for a lingering moment. Opening your mouth to speak, you were interrupted by an alert from your phone. Reluctantly, you retrieved your hand and searched through your bag for the device. A previously set alarm had gone off and suddenly you noticed the time.

“Oh, no. I have to get back to the bakery,” you told him regretfully as you stood and gathered your bags.

“Of course,” Bucky replied, getting to his feet. “I’ll walk with you.”

Grateful that your revelation hadn’t ruined your morning outing or time with Bucky, you nodded with a smile.

“Okay.”

__________________

Stepping off the subway at your intended stop, you climbed the stairs up to street level. This wasn’t a part of the city that you visited often, but it was a nice change of scenery. Nervously wiping damp hands on your jeans, you crossed the street and headed for your destination.

After your lovely and unexpected morning with Bucky in the park on Sunday, he walked you home and you unlocked the bakery after saying goodbye. Your mind was a mess of thoughts as you went about your usual tasks of setting up chairs, brewing coffee, and baking fresh pastries to sell for the day. No deliveries on Sundays, so it was less of a rush to get everything ready. By 11am, you turned over the sign to read “Open” and the work day officially began.

You didn’t mind manning the shop on your own on Sundays. The atmosphere was much more relaxed and the weekend crowd seemed to enjoy lingering with their coffees and croissants. There was a lull in business for half an hour and during that time, you nearly drove yourself crazy trying to decide how to respond to B. Your talk with Bucky had helped, but there was still a lot to consider.

Finally, you pecked out a reply and quickly hit send before you could rethink it.

_FG: One more chance. I’m trusting you. Please don’t make me regret it._

He replied quickly, which you were grateful for. The wait was always the worst.

_B: I won’t, I promise. I hope I can make it up to you. Tell me when. But would you mind if I chose the where?_

Puzzled, you thought it over and settled on Tuesday afternoon. The bakery usually wasn’t terribly busy and it gave you some time to prepare to be gone later that day. When B told you where he wanted to meet, you were surprised, but also intrigued. As far as recognizing one another, the same rule applied, so you dug out the crumpled Beatles t-shirt you had thrown in the closet after the previous incident and put it in the wash.

Now, as you wore the shirt with jeans and a jacket, you felt the butterflies in your stomach with each step. Approaching the notable area where B had asked you to meet him, your eyes grew wide at the beautiful buildings that housed some of the greatest artists and performers in the city. The Square was enclosed on three sides by beautiful, glass-covered and columned buildings that offered an air of sophistication. Per his instructions, you headed for the center of the square where a fountain resided.

Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts was the home to the New York Philharmonic, the Metropolitan Opera, the New York City Ballet, and the New York City Opera. It was also adjacent to the Juilliard School where many of the greatest musicians and artists were taught. This area of the city was incredible and awe-inspiring, especially if one was lucky enough to get tickets to such an event. However, in the afternoon, it was mostly filled with tourists, which is why you were all the more curious about why B chose this spot.

People were milling about and taking pictures as you heard a string quartet playing a classical music piece. The group of young musicians were loosely surrounded by a crowd and a cello case was open with bills and coins dropped inside. Starving artists and all that. Just as you were about to sit down beside the fountain, the song changed and you froze. You knew that tune. You’d know it anywhere.

_Ah, look at all the lonely people…_

You heard the lyrics in your head, recognizing it as [“Eleanor Rigby” by The Beatles](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3D6gluNoLVKiQ&t=OWQ5YWEwNjhjYzg4ZGNjN2U2OTNlMzkxMjI0YjlmZjNhZGMzZjU4NSxFWXpPUWVqUw%3D%3D&b=t%3AAPTZsA8IqrK1ibe3l-X-1Q&p=http%3A%2F%2Favengerofyourheart.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F177560726481%2Fflour-girl-14-bucky-x-reader-au&m=1). Stunned, you turned toward the sound and slowly began to approach the quartet. You watched them, mesmerized, until you heard your name being called. It was the last thing you expected to hear, so it took a moment for it to register. Turning around, you followed the voice and saw… _him_.

Confused, you took a step forward and opened your mouth to speak before you looked down and saw the t-shirt he was wearing. The Rolling Stones.

In that moment, it all came together in your head and the blood drained from your face.

“You?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh!!! Cliffhanger!!! I know, I know, I’m sorry. I think we all know who B is, but a little more waiting until we find out her reaction. What would you think if he brought you all the way out to Lincoln Square with a stringed quartet and everything?? Hmmm. It’s about to go down, you guys. :D Wasn’t that walk through the Farmer’s Market lovely? That conversation about “B” was kinda meta, though. heh. At least Bucky didn’t confirm or deny anything! I think he really did want to hear straight from her mouth that she was falling for him. Kinda. ;) Please let me know your thoughts!! Any and all feedback is appreciated! I adore you guys. Thank you. <3


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky.
> 
> Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)
> 
> Warnings: none! Mild swearing? Bit of angst. Whoops. :) 
> 
> Word Count: 3.2k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s here!! Finally, some answers. Whew! I think the previous cliffhanger wait will be worth it. I hope. ;) I can’t wait to hear your thoughts! I always love to hear from you. Any feedback is appreciated. I love you all!!

_Previously:_

_Confused, you took a step forward and opened your mouth to speak before you looked down and saw the t-shirt he was wearing. The Rolling Stones. In that moment, it all came together in your head and the blood drained from your face._

_“You?”_

_______________

All the pieces clicked into place as you thought back to the past few months, a sick feeling burrowing into your stomach. Your skin felt hot as you broke into a cold sweat, feeling too many eyes on you. It was a set-up. They were in on it, you were positive. It was all a ruse. A joke at your expense. Tears blurred your vision while your heart beat loudly in your ears, so much so that you almost missed his words. **  
**

“Hey, Y/N,” he said with the slightest of smiles.

He had absolutely no right to look so damn handsome when you felt like the earth beneath you was crumbling, threatening to swallow you whole. From the stylishly scuffed boots on his feet, his long legs clad in a pair of black jeans, the iconic Rolling Stones t-shirt on his muscular torso, and all the way up to his lightly tousled chestnut locks: he looked perfect. He was B. He was a liar. And now everything was ruined.

“Bucky? You’re…B?” you barely managed to whisper with a crack in your voice.

He nodded, letting out a resigned sigh. “But you can call me Bernard, if you want to,” Bucky attempted to joke, but it fell flat, so he went on. “I know meeting here was unusual, but I wanted to do something special and my friend Natasha and her quartet go to Juilliard, they only had a small break between classes, so…”

The pressure in your head was increasing, making you light-headed as you began to sway. Your knees gave out as tunnel vision took over, feeling a pair of hands grip your arms. A scrape of metal on concrete and there was a chair for you to sit on. In the back of your mind, you realized it was probably a chair from one of the quartet members, but somehow the music continued on. “Eleanor Rigby” transitioned into “I Wanna Hold Your Hand” seamlessly; the students were obviously talented. Unfortunately, now those songs would be tied to this humiliating moment, forever tainted.

As you returned to yourself, you felt the warmth of a hand against your cheek and another resting on your knee. _His_ hands. You jerked away and he released you, taking a step back. Blinking a few times, you inhaled a shuddering breath and tried to ground yourself.

_Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out._

He was talking again.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, I…I screwed it all up, I didn’t mean to…” He began to pace, running a hand through his perfect hair. “Can you please just say something? Let me know you’re okay? You’re scaring me,” Bucky uttered, crouching close to you, but not touching.

Another deep breath as the devastation caught light, giving way for the fury. Fire burned hot deep down inside you until it rose to the surface with words bursting past your lips as venom.

“How dare you?” you seethed, hands clenched into fists by your side. “How could you lie to me for months and come up with this elaborate scheme—the texts, the rude behavior, then the kindness and nursing me back to health, and all of this! What did I do to deserve this?” you finally shouted, bursting to your feet, to his surprise. “What do you have to gain by making me look like a fool? God, I feel so stupid…” you trailed off, hands gripping your head as you paced.

“What?” Bucky exclaimed, sounding confused. “You think I…Y/N, I would never do that to you! It wasn’t a scheme, I…the texting it wasn’t some sort of plan, it just happened!”

You scoffed. “How am I supposed to believe you?”

“Because I….” he stopped short, biting his lip and then changing tactics. “Look, I can explain. I know you’re upset, and you have every right to be. I can see now how this all looks, and….I’m so sorry. I went about this all wrong, just…will you hear me out? Five minutes. If after that you still hate me and never want to see me again, then…I’ll go,” he said, those last two words filled with what sounded like regret.

Arms crossed over your chest, you paused in your pacing and really looked at him for the first time. Those bright blue eyes—the ones that had drawn you in and made your pulse quicken each time they met yours—did seem to convey some sorrow. That, or he was a better actor than you thought. You could walk away right now and that would be the end of it, but….you wanted to know why. You wanted answers. Curiosity got the better of you, so you offered a curt nod and his shoulders sagged in relief.  

“Thank you,” Bucky sighed, his hands wringing nervously as he gathered his thoughts. “Y/N….I didn’t plan any of this. I mean, okay, yes, I planned this afternoon but I mean the texting, our first meeting, the not-so-playful banter…it was all an accident. Or fate, destiny, whatever you want to call it. That first text to you really was a mis-dial. I was telling the truth when I said I lost or broke my phone often. Somehow, that hasn’t happened since we…started talking. I guess I was more careful because there was something precious on there. I didn’t want to lose that connection…”

You raise an eyebrow, doubtful at his words, but let him continue.

“Anyway, it really was an accident that I happened to text you. I was trying to reach Sam about a mistake on our order—“

You snorted then. “Oh, right, like you have the number of the delivery driver? I can hardly get in contact with anyone at the company and you have his personal cell number?”

Bucky blanched at that. “Actually…Sam and I are friends. We went to high school together, so…yeah. I do have his number. He changed it recently, so I didn’t have it fully memorized. Anyway, I just want you to know that I didn’t know who you were for the longest time, just like you didn’t know who I was. I swear on my life, it wasn’t a scam. Those messages…hearing from you was the highlight of my day. It still is,” he spoke softly.

Eyeing him carefully, you still weren’t sure of his truthfulness, but you urged him on. “When did you find out it was me?”

He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. “That day we were supposed to meet.”

Letting out a dry burst of laughter, you shook your head. “Of course. You saw me there and just decided to waltz in 20 minutes late as if it was nothing. I bet you had that Rolling Stones t-shirt on under that hoodie, didn’t you?” you poked a finger against his chest, accusingly.

Pink dusted his cheeks as he avoided your eye. “I did. I was wearing it, but I actually knew earlier that day,” he admitted, digging the toe of his boot into the concrete.

You blinked in surprise. “What?”

“That day at my father’s bakery? Remember when you signed the wrong initials and you told me what your nickname was? ‘FG’?” he prompted you.

Searching your mind for that particular small memory, you saw it clearly. Flour Girl. You gave him all the clues, it was so obvious. As you recalled, he really did react strangely when you told him that day. Back when he was Jimmy, before he became Bucky. Bucky with a B.  

“The text,” you uttered, absentmindedly.

“Yeah. I stepped around the corner to text you and when I heard the alert and peeked around to see the smile on your face…I knew. I was so…confused. Conflicted. I don’t know…I knew I wanted to continue to be the one to put that smile on your face, but after everything I had said and done, there was no way you would see me as anything other than Jimmy the Asshole. I actually thought about not showing up at the Nest that day. Take the coward’s way out…”

You huffed out in anger, wondering if that would have been better or worse than what really did occur.

“But I showed up. And you…”

“I blew up in your face,” you groaned, head falling into your hands, then mumbling the last few words. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Bucky didn’t answer right away, so you finally raised your head to see his expression. “I thought about it. You didn’t give me a chance to speak, which I still don’t blame you for,” he quickly added the last part as you admittedly shrugged in agreement. “Honestly, Y/N…if I had told you right then and there, would we even be here right now? Would we have gotten to know each other? Had become maybe even…friends?”

You mulled it over, chewing on your lip. “Probably not,” you confessed.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” he said with a sigh. “I know it was wrong. I just…I needed some time to figure things out. I took that day off work afterward and then kept my distance for a while. I wanted to give you a chance to…I don’t know…”

“Mourn,” you finished his sentence, since he seemed unsure. It was the most appropriate term for what you remembered feeling. “I thought I lost you. Or B, anyway. And I didn’t know why. When you sent that text afterward, I was…confused,” you explained.

There was a quiet interruption then as the music slowed to a stop and the musicians packed up to leave. Your whole conversation so far had been accompanied by a beautiful medley of Beatles songs, played entirely by string instruments. A gorgeous redhead carrying a violin stepped forward, reluctantly.

“Sorry, Buck, but we have to go,” she spoke, briefly meeting your eye. At a different time, there might have been introductions, but the tension was pulled so tight that you felt like any normalcy was an abstract concept.

“Okay. Thanks,” Bucky muttered as he also nodded at the other members of the quartet. They began to walk away and you found yourself studying your shoes intently.

“Good luck,” she said at a whisper, barely reaching your ears.

There was a beat of silence as they left and the conversation slowly resumed.

“I thought I lost you, too,” Bucky finally said, frown tugging at his lips. “After I sent that text, I was prepared to never hear from you again. I doubt I would have had the courage to ever tell you, so that would have been the end and I’d have to live with that. But then you responded,” he said, smiling at the memory. “You gave me a second chance and I knew right then that I didn’t deserve you. You’re a better person than I’ll ever be but I thought maybe….I thought I could show you that I could be more than just the cocky jerk you saw. Maybe I could change your mind and then…I could tell you.”

There was a pause then as you internalized his confession. He saw you a lot differently than you saw yourself. But could it be the same for him? Was your perception of Bucky more than a little skewed? Now was your chance to find out the truth.

“So,” you began, finally breaking the silence, “all those nice things you did weren’t entirely altruistic? Helping me bake, the cold remedy and soup, the parking spot at the Nest…were you just trying to show me this new side of yourself?”

He winced at first to hear his list of actions laid bare, but he sighed in resignation, choosing his words carefully. “At first, yeah, I guess you could say that. But after that late night at your bakery, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted to be around you more…get to know you, but I didn’t want to push it. I knew you were skeptical of my behavior, and you were right to be. I guess…since I felt like I already knew you as FG, then maybe if I could help you see me as more like ‘B’, then it wouldn’t seem so shocking when I told you the truth. Big fat failure at that,” he let out a dry chuckle.

Stuffing your hands in your jacket pockets, you shuffled your feet a moment. “So…everything after that night was because you wanted to see me? Spend time with me?” you nervously asked, trying to maintain eye contact but finding it difficult during these moments of vulnerability.

Bucky smiled sweetly, taking a small step toward you. “Yes. Y/N, you are one of the kindest, hardest working, most stubborn, beautiful, genuine, and talented people I’ve ever met. It’s no wonder that I fell for you,” he stated as if it was fact. “Once I got to know you—the REAL you—and I let you under my skin, I just wanted to make everything better. I wanted to fix what my ego and cowardice had fractured.”

_The minute you let her under your skin, then you begin to make it better…_

Against your will, you let out a smile at his mention of the lyrics for “Hey Jude”. Another Beatles classic that had always been a favorite of yours. The ice around your heart began to thaw, helping you to believe that maybe, just maybe, he was telling you the truth. That he could possibly feel the same way that you did. Still do? You saw the hopeful smile on Bucky’s face as he noticed your change in demeanor, but he waited for your response.

Taking a step forward, you took in a deep breath. “You’re right, I was skeptical. I had no idea what caused you to change so…drastically. Maybe I should have known, like when you told me your name was Bucky with a ‘B’ or how I only started getting messages after I had seen you. But…I kind of started falling for Bucky. What’s funny is, I was torn between this man I only knew through text and the one I saw every day in person who I was beginning to look forward to seeing and spend time with. I was confused. But it turns out they’re one in the same,” you squinted at Bucky a moment before softening into a smile.

Bucky’s cheeks tinged pink and he looked down, his expression showing guilt.

“So why now?” you asked, closing the distance between you to only a few feet. “Why tell me now instead of that night at the bakery or the grocery store or….” You trailed off, having a sudden realization. “Oh my god, the Farmer’s Market!”

Bucky scrunched his nose in guilt, watching you put the pieces together. “I know….”

Your eyes grew wide, pointing a finger in accusation. “You! You let me talk on and on about this mystery man when all this time–”

“I know, I know,” he interrupted then, throwing his hands up in surrender. “I should have told you then. I wanted to tell you dozens of times, but I chickened out. Steve was about to kill me after that day at the Nest and every day since when I came home, having failed to tell you the truth. Especially after he finally met you at your bakery. He could easily tell how amazing you are and he pushed me to tell you. I just…I was afraid of breaking the spell.”

You let the silence linger a moment before speaking. “Steve knew? Everything?”

Bucky nodded with a shrug. “He’s my best friend. I couldn’t wipe the dopey smile off my face if I got a text from you whenever he was around, so yeah. He noticed,” he ducked his head bashfully.

You couldn’t help but do the same, biting your lip to hold back a smile. “So…did his encouragement lead to this afternoon?” you urged him on.

“No. Maybe…” Bucky huffed out a sigh. “I don’t know, I just…I didn’t want to lie to you anymore. I had fallen for you and I wanted to be completely honest with you. No secrets, no deception. And if the price I pay is losing you, then I’ll be devastated. But I’ll understand,” he uttered sadly, avoiding your eyes.

The thaw complete, you felt a warmth begin to emanate from inside you, making you smile. Was it possible? Could the guy you had fallen for actually like you back? Seemed like a crazy concept. With all your cards on the table, you could now see what Bucky’s motives had been and while his way of going about it wasn’t ideal, his heart was in the right place. Now you just had to decide how to go on from here. Truthfully, you would be devastated as well if today was the last time you ever saw him. There was still some mending to be done, but maybe you could both work on that…together.

Feeling bold, you slowly reached out and slipped your hand into Bucky’s, fingers intertwining. He glanced down at your joined hands in shock and then up to you, the light of hope in his eyes.

“No more secrets?” you asked gingerly.

Bucky shook his head immediately. “None. I promise. Does this mean…” he trailed off, one corner of his mouth lifting.

You let out a wide grin then, lifting your other hand to rest on his cheek. He really was incredibly handsome with those bright blue eyes, that sculpted jawline, and pink pouty lips where your eyes lingered a moment. Inching forward until your noses nearly touch, you met his gaze and saw nothing but adoration and awe, which must have been reflected in your eyes as well. Bucky waited for you to make a move, his tongue darting out to lick his lips in anticipation.

“I wanted it to be you,” you whispered just as your lips brushed his, lightly at first but then increasing in pressure.

Bucky froze a moment in shock, but then recovered and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. Your hands combed through his chestnut strands as his lips caressed yours, but it was then that you both realized your current situation. There was a smattering of applause as you broke apart, causing heat to rise in your cheeks. Oops.

“Maybe we should talk more when we’re not surrounded by strangers,” Bucky suggested, a bashful blush on his handsome face.

You nodded in agreement. “Okay,” then feeling the rollercoaster of emotions you had ridden in just a short time. Suddenly you were overwhelmed with tears brimming your eyes, happy ones this time. “I still can’t believe this is real,” you confessed with a watery smile. “What happens now?”

Bucky held one hand with yours and raised the other to brush away your tears with his thumb. “Don’t cry, Flour Girl. This is just the beginning. There’s plenty of time to figure it all out, but for right now… _I wanna hold your hand_ ,” he quoted, giving yours a squeeze.

You let out a burst of laughter, returning the squeeze as Bucky led you out of the square toward the subway. “So, does this mean I’ve converted you?”

Bucky looked at you, confused, so you gave the front of his Rolling Stones t-shirt a tug and then gestured towards your Beatles shirt. He laughed, offering a shrug. “They’re kinda growing on me.”

You beamed at him, looping your free hand around his arm and leaned against his side. Bucky reciprocated with a kiss to your forehead, making you swoon internally, since you were still in public. He was right, this was only the beginning and you weren’t sure what the future held, but walking hand in hand in the October sunlight, you couldn’t wait to find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So????? Was it worth the mystery and confusion and pain and screaming?!? I sure hope so! I’ll be honest, I love the movie “You’ve Got Mail” but the ending seemed a little too easy to me. I’d be pissed about being lied to for so long! So this is my fix. :) She got to vent and yell and he got to confess and explain. Did it all happen as you expected? Would you forgive Bucky after everything? We have one more chapter left cause you know how I love a good Epilogue. ;) I adore you all. Please let me know your thoughts on this part, I love all the feedback you have to offer! Thank you for reading. Love you all. <3


	16. Epilogue (End)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Characters: reader, Bucky.
> 
> Summary: Discovering the cute guy you just flirted with is the heir of a rival bakery, you suddenly find yourself running into him all over the city. Can your small boutique bakery compete? And how do you deal with the guy who seems determined to make your life a living hell? Luckily you’re distracted by a secret admirer…But who is he? (Inspired by “You’ve Got Mail”, Enemies to Lovers)
> 
> Warnings: none! Mild swearing?
> 
> Word Count: 3.3k

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are, my darlings. The very last chapter. It’s so surreal to be here. It’s hard to let go of these characters and this lovely little world I’ve created, but it’s time to move on to something different. Soon. I can’t tell you how much all your love and support means to me. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. As always, any and all feedback is appreciated. I love you all. <3

_18 Months Later **  
**_

_Shifting the surprisingly heavy, awkward object in your hands, you felt butterflies as the years of stress and hard work all led to this moment. Taking a deep breath, you felt a presence behind you as an arm slipped around your waist. You leaned into him as he helped you support the weight in your hands._

_“You did it, babe,” Bucky whispered in your ear._

_Pride and gratefulness swelling within you and turning your head to meet his eye, you pressed a kiss to his lips. “No, WE did it,” you said with a smile._

_He returned it with that sweet, toothy grin that lit up his handsome face. “You ready for this?”_

_Biting your lip, you nodded. “I’m ready.”_

_Bucky lifted his head to face the small crowd that had gathered. “Alright, everyone. Let’s make this official!” he exclaimed with enthusiasm._

_Two of your new employees stretched the six-inch-wide ribbon across the doorway of the shop and both you and Bucky opened the pair of comically large scissors. With one snip, the now two pieces of ribbon fluttered in the breeze and there was a smattering of applause as you raised a fist in celebration._

_Bucky took the scissors as you opened the doors, ushering eager customers inside. Words of congratulations swirled around you as your heart swelled with pride. Bucky was beside you then as you watched customers ooh and ahh over the pastry items and new inside decor._

_“I can’t believe it,” you spoke softly, leaning into his side. “A second location for City Sweets. I wasn’t sure I’d ever get this far.”_

_“I did,” he replied confidently, placing an arm around you and offering a squeeze. “I never doubted you for a second.”_

_A small burst of laughter left you, considering your past history, but you just let out a contented sigh and place a protective hand on your swelling belly as a band of gold glinted on your left ring finger. Someone called your name then, trying to gain your attention, but the bakery was suddenly out of focus and you were forced into reality. “Y/N….”_

_A few more moments and the voice pierced your senses._

“Y/N….gotta wake up, doll,” your boyfriend said as you groaned in displeasure.

“Mmm nooooo,” you whined in protest. “Five more minutes. I was having a good dream…”

“Oh yeah?” you heard Bucky in a cheeky tone as his weight caused the bed to dip beside you. “What kind of dream?”

You let out a throaty chuckle as he knelt beside you and placed an arm on either side of your waist. Swatting a hand against his bicep playfully, you shook your head.

“Not THAT kind of dream,” you sleepily replied, then feeling a warmth in your cheeks as pieces of the dream lingered. None of it had come to pass…yet. The second bakery, the ring, or…all the rest. It wasn’t something you felt should be brought up just now, so you raised a hand to cup his cheek and tucked a lock of chestnut hair behind his ear. Bucky had grown out his hair over the past year and you thought he looked even more handsome this way.

His brow furrowed in disappointment, making you laugh. “Damn. A good one though? What happened?”

You filtered through the specifics of the dream as they threatened to slip through your fingers. “There was a grand opening for a second location for the bakery,” you finally answered truthfully, even if it was the whole truth.

Bucky beamed then. “Oh, yeah? That’s got to be a good omen! It’s all going to come together, I can feel it!” he exclaimed with enthusiasm and it was contagious.

Returning his smile, you rubbed a thumb against his cheek and then hooked a hand behind his neck, pulling him down toward you. “I hope so, but for now…” you trailed off, wiggling your eyebrows as Bucky caught up to your meaning and he pressed his lips to yours.

“Mmmm. But the shop…” he muttered against your lips, his body language fighting against his words as a hand slipped under your pajama top. Your fingers gripped the front of his t-shirt, pulling him closer.

“They can spare us this morning,” you moaned as you trailed kisses along his chiseled jaw to nibble on his earlobe.

Bucky groaned at that, hands searching for more bare skin when he reluctantly spoke again. “I feel compelled to remind you that Wanda needed the morning off,” he said while bringing his lips back to yours, “so it’s just Darcy opening the shop.”

You froze at those words and finally gathered their meaning. “Dammit,” you whined, shoving Bucky off you so he landed hard on his side of the bed. Throwing off the covers, you swung your legs off the bed when Bucky caught you around the waist from behind.

“I wish I hadn’t said anything,” Bucky whispered in your ear, his hands still trying to wander.

“No, you’re right,” you sighed in regret, turning to face him and pressing a kiss to his lips. “There’s a lot to be done and I love Darcy, but god help her, she can’t do it alone. At least we have date night tonight,” you teased with a grin.

Bucky chuckled and finally released you as the pair of you got ready for the day.

Darcy was in her last semester of culinary school and when she asked if you were interested in taking on an intern so she could fulfill her required hours, you jumped at the chance. She was young, but her baking instincts were excellent. As long as she was focused, her recipes always turned out brilliantly. It was when too much was going on at one time that she got frazzled and made mistakes. Her training and stress tolerance levels were a work in progress.

You had also trained her to help at the counter, but she certainly couldn’t do both the morning baking and open the shop simultaneously. Something was bound to burn, get over-mixed, or forgotten up front. She was wonderful help, but still, she needed direction. However, having a designated baker did free up your time somewhat so you could focus on other projects and grow the business.

Dressed with everything you needed for the day in a shoulder bag, you and Bucky headed outside and walked hand in hand down the few blocks to the bakery. Your previous apartment had been the perfect size just for you, but once you and Bucky started dating seriously, he spent more time there and suddenly it felt cramped. Also, business was doing well enough that you didn’t feel that timewise you could handle the superintendent job and you didn’t necessarily need the discount in rent anymore. It was time for a change.

After a year of dating, you made the jump and got a place together with Bucky that wasn’t too far from the bakery. Bucky’s best friend and roommate, Steve, ended up moving in with his long-time girlfriend, Peggy, and now they were engaged. In fact, you had a wedding cake consultation with them the following week. You couldn’t wait to help design the cake of their dreams, even with so much going on. There was no doubt, you would do anything for close friends.

Life wasn’t perfect as your new relationship with Bucky began. There was a lot of patience and communication about what you had both been through and trust that had to be rebuilt. There wasn’t just a switch flicked where suddenly it all worked, but over time the combination of the Bucky you knew and the man through text who had slowly won your heart were merged into one.

True to his word, Bucky was completely honest with you and never broke that trust you built. Now you loved him with all your heart and couldn’t imagine life without him. He had become your rock and your partner, both in life and in business.

Bucky continued to work for his father as you began to date but slowly he spent more time at your bakery just to be around you and to lend a hand. You worried that while you weren’t necessarily competitors, it might be a conflict of interest having him at both bakeries. Bucky felt guilty leaving his father in a bind, but it turned out that his younger sister, Rebecca, wanted to take a year before college to learn the business and find out what she wanted for herself. Now she loved it and had every intention of following in her father’s footsteps. After college, that is. Her father insisted.

George Barnes completely understood when Bucky chose to step away and join you at City Sweets. In fact, he gave his blessing and wished you all the best. Now, Bucky handled a lot of the paperwork and finances so you could focus on baking and product development along with managing your growing number of employees.

It had become glaringly obvious after your one year anniversary for the bakery that Wanda and yourself couldn’t continue to do it all alone, so now with Darcy baking and Pietro, Wanda’s brother, making deliveries, things ran a lot more smoothly.

You felt the growing pains when it became apparently that more space was needed as new opportunities presented themselves. Lucky for you, the small bookstore next to your bakery went out of business, so you decided to lease the space and expand. The renovations took a few months, but having more room was a necessity.

With your blessing, Bucky had reached out to some of the nearby grocery stores and bodegas, asking if they would like to sell your products. It was a lengthy process with a large learning curve, but now your packaged cookies and ganache tarts were sold in several locations around town. Seeing the City Sweets Logo on a shelf gave you a thrill every time and it probably wouldn’t have happened without Bucky’s help.

Having the extra space next door was even more necessary, with the need for packaging equipment and more freezer space. There was also the thought in the back of your mind that it might be time for City Sweets to expand. The idea was a little scary and finding the proper funding would be a challenge, but when you mentioned the possibility of a second location, Bucky was all for it. He was there to support you every step of the way.

Reaching the bakery, you unlocked the door and Bucky held it open for you. Music blasted from the kitchen and as you entered, you spotted Darcy dancing in place as she mixed some scones, the messy bun on top of her head bouncing to the beat. She didn’t hear you enter, so you were nearly beside her before she noticed.

“Ah! Oh, hey, Y/N! Bucky!” she greeted you enthusiastically. “Sorry! I’ll turn down the music!” she continued to shout until the volume decreased.

You smiled at her warmly as Bucky waved and headed into the small office you now shared. “Morning, Darcy. How’s the baking going?”

“Good! Uh….” she looked around the kitchen a moment before she finally found the list you had given her of tasks to accomplish. The paper was now crumpled with several stains on it. “Yeah, I’m over halfway done. The pastries for delivery are boxed and just waiting on a tray of croissants in the oven for up front.”

Nodding, you took a glance at the list. “That’s great, thanks. Did you happen to notice the schedule for this morning? Wanda’s off today.”

Darcy paused a moment, brow furrowed behind her dark rimmed glasses. “No…shit! Did you need me to open the bakery because I—“

You stopped her gently, putting a hand up. “No, it’s okay. I should have left you a note, but Bucky and I will take care of it. Go ahead and finish your list. Pietro should be here soon,” you replied as your baker relaxed.

“Okay. Whew!” Darcy laughed in relief as she returned to her task.

Stepping into the still-dark bakery, you flipped on the lights and began the process of preparing to open for the day. Stocking up all the pastries and removing the less-than-fresh items for donation as the coffee brewed, Bucky soon joined you as he removed the chairs from the tables.

“What did they say?” you asked in anticipation, holding your breath.

Bucky grinned, still giving you those stomach flutters after all this time. “They sent an email. We have a conference call at 11am. Does that work for you?”

Pausing as you placed the coffee creamers in the basin of ice, you thought through your schedule for the day. “Yeah…that should work. Pietro will man the counter after deliveries and Darcy can be back-up. Do you think they’ll say yes?” you asked nervously, knowing Bucky shared your concerns.

Bucky rushed to your side and gathered both your hands in his. “They’d be crazy not to. If anyone deserves this, it’s you,” he assured you, followed by a lingering kiss before you both went back to work. He always knew how to calm your worries and insecurities. Bless him.

Pietro arrived and grabbed the keys to the company van from your office. As more cafes began to carry your products, it just wasn’t practical to keep using your personal car to deliver. Buying a new (okay, used) vehicle for the company was a pricey investment, but a necessary one. You just had to remind Pietro not to drive too fast and keep in mind the precious cargo he was carrying. He always was a bit of a speedster.

Once he was gone, the bakery opened and business was steady all morning. Bucky and yourself took turns helping customers and baking more items when needed. Pietro returned and after his coffee break, he took over the counter. There was a quiet moment, so you left clear tasks for each employee and checked the clock before meeting Bucky’s eye. It was time.

Since phone reception was terrible in the office, you didn’t have a proper area for such an important phone call. In the past you had taken to either having them outside or at a table inside if the bakery was fairly empty. When Bucky suggested that you take a walk, you were confused at first, but then it made perfect sense. Being able to stay active while talking always helped your thought process and productivity

Sharing the headphones with an earbud in each of your ears, Bucky held your hand as he mostly listened in and you walked and talked to the people who held your future in their hands. Twenty minutes later, you had reached the benches just inside the park that now held so much more meaning for you both. Taking a seat with Bucky beside you, the last details were ironed out and you said your goodbyes, then pulling the earbud from your ears as Bucky did the same. Sitting in the stillness a moment, the shock slowly wore off and elation took over. You turned to the man beside you and saw a huge grin upon his handsome face.

“I knew it!” he joyfully exclaimed, giving your hand a squeeze.

Laughing at his reaction and basking in your triumph, you nodded with happy tears threatening. “We got it. We got the loan for a second location, I can’t believe it!” you shouted, throwing your arms around Bucky.

He squeezed you tightly and obviously couldn’t contain the excitement, so he shot to his feet and brought you up with him, then twirling you in a circle. “I told you, it’s all coming together! I guess that dream really was a good omen, huh? I never doubted you for a second,” he grinned at you.

Feeling a flutter in your chest, you remembered those same words he spoke in your dream. “None of this would be happening if it weren’t for you,” you told him gratefully, looping your arms around his neck.

He shook his head immediately. “Yes, it would. You’ve always had it in you. I’m just happy to be a part of it,” Bucky lovingly corrected you as he pulled you in for a kiss. “Come on. The sooner we finish work, the sooner we can celebrate over dinner!”

You laughed as he pulled you into a ridiculous waltz, twirling in the direction of the bakery.

____________

“I’m home! I know, I’m sorry I’m late. Darcy wanted to talk about her internship and I got a call from my dad,” you shouted into the space of your apartment, dropping your things by the door. “I know we have reservations, I’ll be ready soon.”

“That’s okay, take your time,” Bucky replied as he stepped out into the living room.

Pausing in your rushing, you took in the perfect specimen that was your handsome boyfriend. He was wearing a new suit, or at least one you hadn’t seen before. It accentuated his broad shoulders and long legs while the dark blue shade brought out the color of his eyes. Bucky’s dark hair was combed back and he was giving you that adoring smile that made you weak in the knees.

Temporarily speechless, you finally found your voice. “Wow. You look hot,” you blurted which made him chuckle. “Do we really need to go out to dinner? Cause I’d be fine with staying in and finishing what we started this morning,” you stepped closer and fingered one of his lapels.

Bucky captured your hand a pressed a kiss to your knuckles. “There will be plenty of time for that, but we deserve a proper celebration. You deserve it, my love,” he whispered against your lips before he offered you a much-too-chaste kiss. “Now, go get ready,” he urged you with a playful swat to your backside.

Yelping, you smacked his bicep in retaliation, but did as he asked. Thirty minutes later, you were wearing your favorite dress that was only half zipped and searching for a particular piece of jewelry when Bucky’s voice rang out from the living room.

“Y/N? Can you come out here please?” he asked.

“I’m coming,” you replied as you headed in the direction of his voice. “Have you seen my—“

You stopped short at the sight of him, eyes wide in shock. The lights were dimmed and there was a lit candle on almost every surface. Bucky stood in the middle with hands in his suit pants’ pockets, a soft smile upon his lips.

“Bucky, what’s happening?” you whispered.

He extended a hand and you approached slowly until he grasped your fingers. “Y/N….you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m grateful every day that my clumsy fingers and a misdial brought us together. You’ve inspired me to become a better version of myself and every day I fall more and more in love with you. I want to spend my days right beside you, baking, working, laughing, loving…all of it. As long as it’s with you. I love you, Y/N. I thought about doing this at the restaurant, but considering how my last attempt at a public display went, I thought I’d learn from my mistakes…” Bucky smiled sheepishly as he got down on one knee and produce a small box from his pocket.

You let out an audible gasp as it all came together. “Bucky…”

Opening the small box to reveal a beautiful diamond ring inside, Bucky asked a very important question with emotion heavy in his voice. “Y/N…will you marry me?”

Tears already spilling down your cheeks, you nodded immediately before your voice allowed a reply. “Yes. Yes, I will marry you,” you answered with a smile.

Bucky shot to his feet with a shout of triumph, wrapping you in a tight hug before he released you and slipped the ring on your finger. He pressed a kiss to your lips and brushed the happy tears from your cheeks with his thumbs.

“I love you, Flour Girl,” he told you with warm conviction.

“I love you, too, Bernard,” you teased, causing him to chuckle.

A few more kisses and excited phone calls later, you finally did make it out the door for your celebratory dinner. There was so much to be thankful for and while life would still have it’s challenges, you knew anything was possible with Bucky by your side. Two strangers fell in love, all thanks to a wayward text message.

_End._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah!! I can’t believe I finished!! It’s over!! And now I’m happy/sad/relieved/tired/excited for what comes next. I am so overwhelmed by the incredible response this series has received. Considering that baking is literally my career, I was hesitant to write about it at first but once I started, it just flowed and I wanted to share my little world with you. I hope you enjoyed this epilogue and how things wrapped up. I would LOVE to hear your thoughts. Thank you for reading and I adore you all. <3

**Author's Note:**

> So???? Don’t all those pastries sound amazing?? *drool* That delivery van sounded ominous and then this mysterious Jimmy showing up? Hmmm. I had so much fun imagining Clint owning a coffee shop!! I just had to call it The Hawk’s Nest!! :D A little flirting never hurt anyone, but quite the shock when he turns out to be the competition. Whoops. Things might get a little sticky!! And Jimmy?? That nickname will be explained later on. ;) I’d love to hear what you think of this first part! Oh, and this part is the shortest of them all cause I tried to write a drabble series and failed. ha. More words, more story, more yum!! More coming on Thursday! :D All feedback is appreciated. I love you all!! <3


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